Diary of the Damned
by Sister Madly
Summary: Anna Valerious and her twin Sylvia are the last of their family, and though their bond is strong, the preternatural forces at work may be stronger. What really happened in the war against Dracula? Full summary inside. Dracula/OC.
1. I

**Full Summary**: The Valerious family has been battling against Dracula for generations, with no end to the war of Good-and-Evil in sight. With most of her family dead, a young woman wonders if it can end, and if so, will her family be the victors, or will the Vampires reign victorious? Directly involved in the affair, Sylvia Valerious tells the true tale of the events in Romania, and the real legend of Van Helsing and his historic past with the dreaded Count Vladislaus Draguilia. As she stumbles her way through the muddy path placed before her, will she manage to come out unscathed? Or will she fall?

DISCLAIMER: Van Helsing and all related characters, settings, and plots are property of Stephen Sommers and Universal Pictures. I do not claim to own any of those things, and I do not make any money from this writing. However, I do own my character Sylvia as well as some other minor characters, and while some parts of the plot are from the original Van Helsing, I own the bits that are not.

* * *

Every event that occurs within a person's lifetime alters them in some way, whether for good or for bad. People are often the causes of events, but even when not, have more of an impact on their own kind than isolated events do. Values like trust are fostered or neglected at an early age; did someone pick you up when you cried as babe, or did they ignore you? Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, friends, neighbors, mentors, lovers. Young or old, or in between; there are always lessons to be taught, lessons to be learned. Whether those lessons are good or bad depends on those you surround yourself with. Sometimes bad people cannot be avoided. In those instances you can only pray for a favorable outcome.

But it isn't always easy to stay on the right side of good.


	2. II

**AN**: If you're reading this then you've decided to continue reading the new and improved "Diary of the Damned!" Thank you! Now, a few notes before you begin. I have obviously taken liberties with the Van Helsing plot, as evidenced by the presence of my Original Character. As such, this will not be a direct retelling of the movie. That would be boring, and I am not looking to bore you. In this story there will be "new" scenes, "not-there-anymore" scenes, and "wow-where-the-hell'd-that-come-from" scenes. By the end of it, I hope to have forged a new story out of the Van Helsing movie so graciously given to us by Warner Bros.

One last side note: I'm sure you've noticed that I've changed "Anna" to "Ana." Why? Because I like the original Romanian spelling better than the Americanized spelling of the name, that's all.

Enjoy!

* * *

"You're certain that you two can handle this without me?" I sat at the desk in the study, my reading momentarily disrupted. A pounding ache was forming behind my eyes from studying texts for too long, and Velkan's obstinacy was only causing that ache to deepen. I rubbed at my forehead with cold, numbing fingers to try and ease the pain.

Oblivious, he sighed. "How many times have we hunted werewolves, Sylvia? A countless number. And never have Ana, you, or I gotten seriously injured!"

"That may be true," I conceded, standing and coming out from behind the desk, "but the last time we went hunting we almost _lost_ Ana. She would have been killed had I not been there in time to distract the werewolf and let you kill it." I walked to Velkan and looked up at him, arms crossed. "We both know it's unlikely Father will ever return, despite Ana's insisting otherwise. He has been gone for a year already with no word from him or his men." Pausing to take a shaky breath, I continued, "I couldn't stand to lose you or Ana, not when you are the only family I have left."

Warm arms enveloped me, and I melted into my brother's chest, breathing in his familiar scent. My eyes pricked uncomfortably as I hugged him. After a moment, Velkan pulled back, holding me an arm's length away from him.

"I promise to you that Ana and I will be as careful as possible," he said seriously, looking straight into my eyes. "We're taking twice as many men as we usually do to be safe, and I've got half a dozen silver bullets." He tapped the gun at his waist. "Don't worry. I know it's hard, but you know as well as I that it is smarter to have one of us stay at the manor." He didn't finish his sentence, but I knew he meant in case two of us on a mission died, at least one Valerious was left living.

I smiled wearily and replied, "I'll try."

"Good." He grinned at me, turning to look at Ana as she walked into the room.

"Velkan, the men are already assembled in the square. Are you ready?" she asked impatiently. My sister was always ready to go to battle against the dark creatures that lived in our country, and expected everyone else to be the same.

"Of course," Velkan told her. "I was only reassuring Sylvia that I would keep a close watch on you," he teased.

"Hmph," she snorted, pushing past him to get to me. "I didn't see you there," she said as she hugged me. "Velkan is such a caveman he completely blocked you from my view."

"I heard that," he complained from behind her.

"So what?" Ana retorted, pulling away from the hug. "Syl agrees; right?"

"She does have a point, Brother," I chimed in, feeling a little better from the familiar way we bantered with each other. Velkan grumbled something under his breath, but we could all see the smile lurking around the corners of his mouth.

"What did I do to deserve such sisters that taunt me at all opportunities?" he mused playfully. "Twins, no less!"

"Perhaps it is something you did in a past life," I told him, pushing my sister towards the door. "As much as I would love to stay here all day with you two, I think it would be best if you left now. Who knows how long the werewolf will keep you waiting, and you don't want to be caught out in the woods when night falls."

"Sylvia is right! Come Velkan, we've delayed long enough already." Ana took him by the hand and led him through the door forcefully. As they made their way down the hall, Velkan yelled back to me, "Remember to eat dinner! And don't go outside alone!"

I laughed a little to hear his last minute orders, but then I heard the hall door slam shut and I knew my siblings were gone to fight another of the Valerious family's battles of this seemingly never-ending war. Left alone to my studies again, I walked back to the desk, sat down, and continued reading. While Velkan and Ana fought against one of the many monsters inhabiting our lands, I struggled to discover a secret or clue that would help us destroy he who brought all the troubles to our country, once and for all.

* * *

High above my head the villagers' moans and wails of mourning washed over me. My hands, clasped with Ana's identically sized hand and my father's large one, squeezed tightly. Velkan held onto Ana's other hand. _Where's mama? _Amid the confusing and frightening noises made by the townsfolk around us, we followed the men holding the large box. Everyone was dressed in their best white and red clothing, neatly ironed and arranged. _Where's mama?_ I tripped on a rock lying in the well-used path to the cemetery, and nearly fell, but my father caught me. He held me safely in his arms and his big face loomed into view.

"Okay, little fox?"

_Where's mama?_

Suddenly we stood before a rectangular hole in the ground. I was standing on my own again, and I could see my father a few feet in front of me, looking into the hole. The men seemed to have put the large box in it, and I wondered why. _Where's mama?_ My father, who never cried, had tears in his eyes.

"Estera," he said to the hole, "Estera, how can I raise our children without you? What will this family be without you?"

"Papa," Ana said beside me, "why are you talking to the box? Mama's not in there. _Where's mama?_"

Where's mama?

* * *

I woke with a start and promptly grabbed the desk in front of me to keep the chair from tipping back. My heart raced in my chest, thumping against my rib cage in an adrenaline-rich dance. My neck ached and I felt stale, like I'd broken into a sweat while I slept. Sliding a hand across my face, I massaged where the corner of the book had imprinted into my cheek.

Yet another time I awoke from a nightmare about my mother's death. I let out a sigh and stood from the chair, stretching, trying to work out all the kinks in my body. I had stopped having nightmares a few months after her death, but I found that I would dream about her funeral when I was anxious or worried. Lately I had been having those nightmares more often.

Checking the time on my silver pocket watch, I realized that my brother and sister should have returned already. I turned to grab my jacket from the back of the chair and nearly screamed when I saw Ana sitting on the sofa by the fire. How long had she been there? Where was Velkan?

"Ana?"

"Were you having the nightmare again?" she asked softly, staring into her lap. I nodded; she sometimes dreamed about our mother's funeral too. She continued, "I thought so. You looked sad while you were asleep."

I walked over to her and knelt by her feet. She didn't look at me. "Ana," I inquired with growing dread, "where's Velkan?"

It took her a moment to answer. "Gone."

My heart seemed to fall into my stomach. Gone? My brother, Velkan, _dead_?

"Tell me what happened."

Ana looked into my face, hazel eyes swimming with pain, and told me, 'The plan went wrong. You remember the cage we told you about? The lever didn't work." Her speed picked up as she went along, growing more distraught with every word. "Velkan was stuck above the cage, and he dropped his gun. I tried to get it to him, but he wanted me to get away! He was too worried about me," she groaned, shaking her head angrily. "The cage dropped to the ground and the werewolf escaped it, chasing me. Velkan followed us out onto the cliff, and he pushed me out of way as the werewolf jumped... My God, Syl, it was my fault!"

"No, Ana, no. It wasn't your fault," I soothed, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. I fell to the couch heavily beside her and rubbed my hands along her arms and back. A sob wrenched itself from my sister's chest, and for the next few minutes I did what I could to comfort her. My own eyes grew hot in response, but the tears wouldn't come. I knew that the news hadn't quite sunk in yet. Later I knew it would hit me, and I would cry, but for now it was my job to comfort Ana. Thirty minutes later she was calm enough to talk and we thought about what we would do next.

"There's nothing we can do right now," Ana said with a sigh. "I wish we could send a group of villagers to search the lake where the gorge empties out."

"But," I continued her thought, "it could be dangerous. Especially with nightfall on its way." I chewed my lip and swiped at my burning eyes. I sighed, and forced myself to smile at Ana. "You know what we should do? We'll call the maids and have them heat enough water for two baths. We'll be clean and soothed, and then we can go to bed. Tomorrow we'll decide what to do."

Hesitantly, she smiled back. "That sounds good. Tomorrow."

Later that evening as I soaked in the hot water, I cried. I thought about Ana's pain at having witnessed our older brother's death. I thought about the promise Velkan had broken. I thought about all the good times we had had in the past years, despite the constant tragedies that hit our family. I thought about my irrational anger at both Ana and Velkan; it wasn't her fault he was gone, and it wasn't his either.

As soon as I realized this, I knew who I should blame. Dracula had plagued the Valerious family for centuries. It was his fault that countless generations of my family had to see relatives die tragic deaths. It was his fault that I was an orphan. It was his fault that I had no one in the world except my sister now, having taken my brother from me. I hated him with a passion I had never felt before, and I knew that I had to find some way to destroy him just as he had destroyed my life.

* * *

That night, and the next three nights after Velkan's death, Ana and I slept in the same bed together. We both needed the comfort of a warm body and someone familiar nearby, so we comforted each other. Perhaps if either of us had beaux we'd have held them close to us those nights. But since 1880, for eight years, our town had to send any male children to neighboring villages.

When Ana and I were ten, there was a slew of young boys being found with the puncture marks of the vampires in their necks. In an attempt to spare the boys who were still alive, our father found temporary families for them in surrounding villages. Once out of Vaseria, the boys were free from harm. Our father gathered it was the work of Dracula's brides; Marishka, Verona, and Aleera. He assumed they must have had some sort of predilection for the blood of young males. The fact that they did not follow the boys after they left town was only testimony to how sluggish and lazy they were. With all of the young men gone from the town, there were no suitors left for Ana or I. But what we never had, we did not miss.

Even though we both had agreed to formulate a plan the day after Velkan's death, we decided that the best plan was to go on with life as if nothing had happened. What was there to do without a body to bury, but to go forward with our family's mission? It was the only way we could honor Velkan, and it was truly the best way to do so. So we went about life as we had done before; we patrolled, we took council from the citizens of Vaseria, and we researched for the path to Dracula's downfall. The only things that had changed were our sleeping arrangements, and the lack of a third setting at the dining table. It just so happened that four days after Velkan's death, someone walked into our lives and turned them upside down anyway.

* * *

October second was a Sunday, our first without Velkan. Instead of going to the chapel within the manor, Ana and I woke early to walk to the village church. Perhaps in time we would brave the chapel again and confront memories of the three of us praying together, but for now we were content to worship within the presence of our people.

About dinnertime, or noon, the priest ended his sermon and the village people filed out of the church, joking and talking together. Ana and I were the last to leave the church, and on our way out, Father Damek addressed us.

"Daughters, is it true your brother Prince Velkan has passed?"

I nodded, and Ana replied, "Yes, Father. Four days ago." He sighed sadly; Father Damek knew of our family's pledge to destroy Dracula, and he knew that every death brought us closer to failing. The villagers knew we quested to destroy Dracula, but they didn't know why. Father Damek was the only one of them who understood the importance of our mission.

"I will pray for him," he said simply, "and I will pray for you both. Now, Daughters, let me bless you before you go."

After saying a quick prayer for us, Father Damek let us go. We walked into the square, and immediately realized something was off. Instead of returning to their activities as they usually did, the villagers were congregating around the well. I noticed that many of them clutched at farm equipment. My sister and I looked at each other, and with that look we confirmed our suspicions; there was a stranger in our midst. Without a word, Ana strode in the direction of the well. With that in mind, I wove my way through the crowd to a spot opposite Anna's, and found the source of discontent.

Two men stood side by side. A short blonde dressed in monk's robes looked rather perplexed by the gathering around him and his companion. The tall one, a brunette, wore dark clothing, mostly leather, and I could see the outline of pistols beneath his long coat. His face was obscured by the shadow cast by his wide-brimmed hat. Of the two, he looked much more threatening. After a moment I noticed a travel bag lying by their feet, and realized that a crossbow was poking out of it.

"Interesting," I murmured.

The taller man's head turned in my direction as if he had heard my comment. Before he could say anything, Ana spoke behind him.

"Turn around."

The two did so, turning so fast I imagined they might have fallen if they weren't so tense. I saw the tall man shoot a quick look at me again before focusing on my sister. He must have realized we were twins. His observational skills were clearly not affected by the tense situation, a clue in that possibly hinted at his familiarity with stressful circumstances. I took a closer look at him, hoping to find something to tell me who this stranger was.

"Gentlemen," Ana continued, "prepare to be disarmed." Obviously she had noticed the pistols as well.

Immediately, the brown-haired man replied, calmly, "No."

I was growing more intrigued by the second. Originally I had no intention of addressing these strangers at all, but I was curious now. With more question in my voice than anger, I asked, "You fail to obey our laws?"

"The laws of man mean little to me," he stated, moving to keep both of us in his field of vision.

In response to his answer, Ana ordered, "Kill them." She did not actually expect our townspeople to harm the men. Rather, she expected the men to tell her why they were here. It was a bluff, but it usually worked. This time was no different.

"I'm here to help." Again, it was the tall one who answered us.

Automatically on the defensive, Ana spat, "We don't need any help."

"Oh, really?" Before I could react, the man had picked up his crossbow and began shooting in the direction of my sister. Luckily, Ana's reflexes were in excellent condition, and she dove out of the way. Behind her was Verona, Dracula's oldest bride, arms outstretched to attack as she dove through the air.

I silently thanked God for the stranger as the bolts from his crossbow filled her body, keeping her from my sister. She screeched and flew upwards with a great pump of her wings. With a fierce hissing, she removed the metal bolts from her body; a foul snarl on her lips was directed at the man. Behind her, another of Dracula's brides, Marishka, appeared. It was only a matter of time until the third showed up – where one bride went, the others were sure to follow.

I don't quite know what happened next, because while I was keeping an eye on Verona and Marishka, Aleera had come up behind me. I was too late to dodge her as she flew at me, cackling, red curls flying wildly. I cursed breathlessly as he grabbed me with her curled toes, and started flying away from the square. Despite being disoriented, I unsheathed a dagger from my boot and slashed at her ankle. The sick feeling of falling shot through me, and then I was back on the ground with a hard _thump_.

The wind had been knocked out of me, and I gasped for breath. Several people tripped over my body in their haste to get inside, away from the vampires. When I finally recovered, Ana was nowhere to be seen, and the two strangers seemed to be fighting Marishka alone. Where were Ana and the other brides?

I watched as Marishka played with the man, knocking him away from his crossbow before he could get to it, time and time again. Frustrated and frightened by the absence of my sister, I ran, grabbed the crossbow, and dunked the tip of it in the basin of holy water outside of the church. As Marishka laughed high above us, stupid with the glee of toying with a human, I threw the weapon to the man. Without pause, he shot at Marishka with deadly aim. As soon as the bolts entered her body, one perfectly through her undead heart, she screamed and writhed. A few desperate attempts to keep herself in the air ended up plunging her to the roof of a tower; in mere seconds the darts had done their work, and Marishka was nothing more than a smudge of ash on the shingles. The air, after ringing with her unearthly shrieking, seemed oddly quiet.

The loaded silence was ripped into again less than three seconds later. Verona and Aleera shot through the roof of another building, screaming lamentations for their lost sister. They flew away, over the rivers and mountains, probably headed for Dracula's hidden lair. From the same building Ana stumbled down the steps into the square, looking slightly shaken. The man in monk's robes walked towards his companion as he stiffly left his shooting position. I looked at Ana and she shrugged.

At a loss, I said, "Does anyone care for a stiff drink?"

* * *

An hour later the four of us stood in the armory of our manor. Van Helsing, as we learned his name was, just finished telling Ana and I about who he was, and why he was here. He also explained what role Carl would play in the Vatican's plan.

"I still say we don't need any help from you," Ana sniffed. "Our family has been fighting Dracula for generations."

"And you haven't come any closer to killing him," Van Helsing replied promptly. "And that is exactly why you need our aid. The Vatican wants this Dracula business to be finished, and I'm going to help you do it."

"Ana, he does have a point," I told her gently. I felt guilty siding with Van Helsing when my sister so obviously disliked him, but his words held wisdom in them. If he was as good as he said then we could certainly use his assistance.

As I knew she would, Ana glared at me before growling. "Fine. But I am _not_ happy about this arrangement," she said, looking at Van Helsing, "and I want you to know that. Now I am going to go hunting." She turned away from us, sorting through a weapon casement for whatever it was she was looking for.

I didn't have to look outside to know it had already grown dark. "Sister, you know you can;t go hunting after dusk. What would Father say?"

Ana suddenly rounded on me with a look I'd never seen in her eyes before, shouting, "He wouldn't say anything because he is dead! Father is dead and he is not coming back!" She planted a hand on my chest and shoved so hard I had to take a step backwards or risk falling. "And you are not Mama so stop trying to order me about," she snarled, now in Romanian. "Mama is dead, Papa is dead, and now Velkan is, too. And now you are siding with this strange man against your own blood, the only kin you have left? What would Papa say to _that_, Sylvia?"

I stood stunned for a moment, momentarily frozen at my sister's callous words, before I regained my wits. "He would say I was doing the right thing," I replied in kind, "the _smart_ thing, because I wasn't going to let you get yourself _killed_!" I barely saw Ana move her hand until I felt the sudden sting of her slap on my cheek. This time we both froze for a moment, aware again of the audience we had. For an awkward moment Ana and I stared at each other before she turned abruptly on her heel and walked down the hall. Van Helsing rushed past me with a sympathetic glance, before going after her, calling, "Ana! Wait!"

Only Carl and I remained in the room now, and after a moment he asked, "May I?" gesturing to my cheek. Dumbly, I nodded and sat on a nearby chair. "You're bleeding," he said by way of explanation, fingers turning my chin up so he could see the damage.

"Oh. Ana's nails."

I waited patiently while he produced an aid pack from his robes, and then sat silently while he cleaned and dressed the wounds. As Carl was doing this, Van Helsing returned, carrying Ana in his arms.

I was surprised, and was sure it showed on my face. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. Shifting her in his grasp, he asked, "Is there a couch I can lay her on? She's getting heavy."

* * *

Three hours later I found myself in the study with Carl. I glanced up from the book I was reading through and sighed. I felt a headache developing, as they always did when I read for too long. Carl was still diligently studying one of the various texts about our family; he hadn't moved once but to turn the pages of the book. Though impressed by his dedication, I was getting restless and hungry. With a word to Carl, I set out to the kitchens to find a snack to curb my hunger until supper.

On my way down to the first floor of the manor I passed through the armory, and the couch Van Helsing had laid Ana on. It turned out that he'd sprayed Ana with a substance that induced sleep for a few hours, effectively stopping her from going out hunting that night. I was grateful to the man, and thought that Ana had wholly deserved the deception. The couch, though, was now empty. Ana was nowhere to be seen.

Cursing, I grabbed a candelabrum from a nearby table and set off to search for Ana. As I was already there, I started in the armory. If I didn't find Ana, I would search the levels below this one, operating on her original plan to go hunting vampires.

As I walked through the armory I noticed very little except for the distinct smell of wet dog. There were also a few splatters of water on the floor from the storm outside.

I frowned. Had a dog gotten in somehow? Or was I just mistaking the smell for something else, and the water was simply from a broken window? Whatever the cause, I continued on until I heard a sharp intake of breath around the corner of a casement. Holding the light out in front of me I turned the corner cautiously, only to find Ana staring at something to my left.

"I was worried-" I began.

"Velkan," she breathed, still staring to my left. I pivoted on my heel and peered into the corner of the room where Velkan stood, bathed in the light of my candle.

"My God."


	3. III

**AN**: A 'thank you' goes out to KissxTemptationx for her review! Reviews truly are a huge part of what fuels writers on this site, and every one helps the story get written that much faster. Thank you to the few others who put DotD on their favorite or alert lists, as well! This chapter is a bit shorter than the second one, but I thought it was a good place to leave off until the next chapter, so I'm unrepentant. :)

As always, enjoy.

* * *

Velkan, my brother, supposed to be dead but very much alive, stepped towards us.

Ana met him halfway and placed a loving hand on his cheek. I could see the tears shining in her eyes from where I stood, the overjoyed smile on her face. Velkan's hand, dirty and smudged with mud, came up to cover Ana's. The look on his face was one of dreamy relief, perhaps from being home after wherever it was he had been for the past week. I noticed that he didn't look well; he'd lost all of his clothes but for his pants, and even those were tattered and missing half of the legs. There was a twig in his hair, and the rest of his body was just as dirty as his hand.

Ana was saying something to him about how glad she was he was back, when suddenly the look of relief left his face and one of urgency took its place.

"No, listen!" he said desperately. "Dracula is planning something. He wants- wants-" but here Velkan broke off, not able to continue any longer. The moon had appeared from behind the storm clouds, its light brighter than my candle's. As I looked from my brother and his sudden grapple against some invisible force, the moon, and back again, I realized what had happened to Velkan. He had been bitten by that werewolf he and Ana had been hunting, and now he'd become one of the monsters. As Ana, too, realized what fate had befallen Velkan, a stifled sob escaped her lips. In a single moment, the hope of gaining our brother back was yanked away from us with the appearance of the moonlight.

The sounds coming from Velkan were horrible to hear, but it didn't last long. _Thank God_. The full moon's light lit upon Velkan fully, and in the blink of an eye, he'd transformed. The brown furred, half-man, half-wolf creature in front of us roared and flexed its paws, claws popping out as if to warn us. It seemed despite the change, Velkan fought valiantly against the force of Dracula's command, taking a step towards us and then a step back. But eventually Dracula won the battle of wills, and Velkan lunged.

I had only a moment to act, and my instincts took over. Without a second's thought, I leapt at Ana, tackling her to keep her free of the monster's jaws.

What must have been seconds later, ears ringing, Van Helsing stood over me. His lips were moving but I couldn't hear his words. I noticed distantly a gun clutched in his hand. He bent down and looked at something behind me before motioning Carl forward and pointing to it. Then he loped off to some unknown destination, Ana crawled out from underneath me, apparently unharmed, and ran after him without a word. As soon as I saw that she was safe, all my senses came back to me and the pain hit.

"Nnng," was all that escaped my throat as I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming. I clutched at my left thigh as Carl came running. He took one look at my leg and turned right back around from whence he came. "I'll be right back!" he yelped to me.

When he got back with supplies better equipped to deal with my injury, Carl spent the better part of an hour stitching and bandaging me up. Evidently Velkan had managed to make contact with me as I was pushing Ana out of the way, but Carl thought it was safe to say the wounds were definitely from claws and not teeth, so I would not be turning into a furred abomination next full moon, thank the heavens.

I sat on a couch in the armory, declining Carl's offer to help me to my room, and waited for Ana and Van Helsing. After two hours had passed I gave up, calling a serving girl to help me to my room and bring me supper. After I ate a small meal of rabbit stew, a crust of bread, and baked potato, I had her bring me tea of willow bark to help dull the pain in my leg. I drank it quickly before settling down in my bed and trying to fall asleep. After a while the throbbing pain in my leg faded into a tolerable ache, and I slid blissfully into the darkness.

* * *

"Syl, wake up."

"Mmph," I groaned, burrowing my head into my pillow.

"Syl, truly, it's already ten o'clock."

"I am exhausted," I pleaded into the pillow. "Come back later." Whatever dream I'd been having still lingered hazily in my mind, and as I began to fall back to sleep, it continued on as if nothing had happened. Someone was with me, and whoever it was, I felt a pull of yearning so strong it was almost physical. The person in the dream turned towards me, and my gaze slowly traveled upwards, but just before my eyes lit upon their face...

"Aha!" a feminine voice above me shouted, pulling the covers from my body.

"I loathe you," I muttered, eyes scrunched against the sudden light as Ana dropped my covers and opened the window curtains.

"You adore me," she replied pleasantly, still going about whatever it was she was doing. My eyes were still glued shut, so I couldn't tell for sure, but I felt the mattress dip in as she sat beside me on the bed.

"What happened?" she asked, suddenly serious.

I cracked open an eye and rubbed at the other one with the heel of my hand. I could see now that she was looking at the back of my thigh, lifting the bandages and looking to see the damage.

"Oh." I frowned. As soon as she had mentioned it, the pain flooded back into my injuries – typical. "That's from last night when I pushed you out of Velkan's – the werewolf's – way. Carl says it's a superficial wound, in any case; no muscle damage. He caught me with his claws, not his teeth, so don't look so grave, Ana."

She grimaced as she peered at the irregular gashes in my leg, sewn up as best they could be. Blood still seeped from the wounds, and I made a mental note to have someone help me change the dressing later.

"I'm sorry," she told me, placing the bandages back in their original place. "For not staying, I mean." Ana looked me in the eye, willing me to understand. "I had to go after Van Helsing. He was going to shoot Velkan, you saw last night! I couldn't just let him... let him kill our brother. Not when there might still be a way to save him."

"Ana..."

"No, Sylvia, just wait. Last night when Van Helsing and I were out together, we came up with a plan. In a few days time, or whenever it is your leg heals, we're going to search Frankenstein's castle. I never thought of it before, but Van Helsing thinks Dracula might be living there! If he is, then he might have his possessions there with him. And because the werewolf is his creature to call-"

"You think Dracula may have a cure for lycanthropy in his possession," I finished.

"Exactly. You see how important this is then?"

I was skeptical. Not about Dracula living in Castle Frankenstein; it had been empty for over a year, and I trusted Van Helsing's judgment. The notion made sense to me now that I considered it. But I was skeptical about Ana's supposition. Doctors and scholars had yet to discover antidotes to the many diseases that regularly afflicted mankind. What made her think that a vampire, albeit a clever vampire, had discovered the cure to the rare, relatively unknown lycanthropy infection? It seemed unlikely, and I told her so.

"Perhaps," my sister said agreeably, "but we have to try, for Velkan. For our family."

I was still not convinced, but confronted with a way to possibly alleviate my sister's unhappiness I was willing to give the plan a try.

"Alright, I agree."

With a shout of joy, Ana lunged and hugged me, inadvertently pressing her full weight on my wounds. I clenched my teeth and tried to hide a grimace as pain rocketed throughout my body.

"Ana, my leg," I grunted.

"Oh, Syl, I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," I breathed. Siblings were very often a pain, in this case literally, but I wouldn't give mine up for all the riches in the world. There were some things that could not be replaced with gold or jewels, and family, so rare in my life, was one of them.

"Let us break our fast now, shall we?" Ana asked, rummaging through one of my chests for a dress I could throw over myself quickly.

"We shall, but only if you promise not to bump into my leg again," I stipulated teasingly.

"It was an accident!"

* * *

That day we had a late breakfast, and I was surprised to find that neither Van Helsing nor Carl ate with us. As the serving maids brought out dishes of freshly baked rolls, cheeses, fruits, jams, and bacon, I asked Ana if she had seen them yet this morning.

"They've been in the study since before eight o'clock. When I asked if they would come down to break fast, they declined. Apparently they cannot spare time even to eat," she observed sardonically, paring an apple with her knife.

"Hmm." I sipped my black coffee, fingers curled around the blissfully warm cup. It was unhealthy to forgo meals, even if it was in order to research ways to kill the deadly Dracula. It was especially unhealthy for the two grown men now living in the manor because their job entailed keeping Ana and I alive.

We ate silently, both caught up in our own thoughts, so when Ana left I barely took notice. I finished eating ten minutes later, found a wicker basket in the kitchen and brought it back into the dining room, where I filled it with the left over food from the table, two of each utensil, plates, and cups. I also took the coffee pot, still warm, and made my way into the study. Carl and Van Helsing were so intent on the books they were reading that neither noticed me until I slammed the basket and pot on the table in front of their faces.

"Eat," I told them simply.

"We're rather busy right now," Carl started nervously. "Perhaps la-"

"Now would be a wonderful time to have breakfast, thank you, Sylvia," Van Helsing interrupted quickly, obviously recognizing the irate expression on my face for what it was. Carl looked up from his book and actually winced at me before quickly grabbing something from the basket. Van Helsing followed suit, and I sat myself down in a plush chair to watch them. As the pile of foods in the basket slowly diminished, I asked them, "Are you always so dedicated to your missions that you forget to do such necessary things like eating?"

"When I am assigned one, yes," Van Helsing answered without looking up. "Nothing should get in the way of work, not even my own personal comfort, _especially_ if innocent lives are at stake."

"Perhaps. But what happens when you forget to eat for so long your body is affected by it, and you cannot save those innocent lives, Van Helsing?" I countered. "Everyone needs to eat."

"I'm not 'everyone,' though, am I? You and Ana both recognized my name because of a reputation..." he struggled to find the right word, "_unique_ from anyone else's."

"I guess you don't exactly blend in with the rest of society, but while you stay in this house I expect you to behave like 'everyone' and eat," I huffed, already impatient with his stubbornness. "You, too, Carl."

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled into his book. Nearly five minutes passed before I grew weary of the silence again.

"I don't know why you both insist so on reading through every book in here," I observed. "You think my family hasn't tried everything in them? We have staked him, thrown holy water in his face, exposed his body to the daylight, and still Dracula lives. What more do you think you can glean from those histories?"

"It would have helped if you had let us know that before we read eight of them," he growled, shutting the book in front of him with a loud thud.

"You never asked," I said smugly.

"Who never asked what?" Ana asked as she entered the room.

"Oh, nothing important," I told her, still smiling to myself. I leant back into the chair and pulled my legs up to my chest, ignoring the painful twinge in my thigh. "What have you been doing?"

She crossed the room and stood next to the heat of the fireplace, extending her hands to get warm. "Making sure the horses were attended to and checking their tack. I thought we might go for a ride today through the village."

"Ana, must we? I can't possibly ride a horse with my leg the way it is," I said with a frown.

With a nonchalant look at me over her shoulder, she rejoined, "I didn't mean you, Syl. I know you can't ride a horse yet. I was talking about Van Helsing." Her face darkened. "I doubt he would stay here if one of us went outside anyway."

"Correct," the selfsame man acknowledged, standing from his seat at the table. "Carl, you stay here and try to find out more about Dracula's history." The friar nodded, and Ana and Van Helsing made their way out of the room.

I looked after them from the chair, noticing Van Helsing's intense concentration on my sister's figure as they walked, and frowned. If he thought I would let Ana be distracted by a relationship with him, he was sorely mistaken. After this was all done though, both Ana and I would be free to court whoever we wanted, and if she wanted Van Helsing – well, that was fine with me.

I didn't like the man in a personal way, but the feelings his presence stirred up were almost impossible to ignore. Although Ana was a wonderful sister and companion, I longed for closeness with someone of the opposite sex. Van Helsing, such a strongly masculine figure, reminded me of all that I had been forced to ignore as a daughter of the Valerious family. When the war was over though... I sighed happily, and lay my cheek on my knees.

Then I would be free to start a real life all my own.


	4. IV

While Ana and Van Helsing were gone, I sat with Carl in the library and we read in companionable silence until dinner. I knew Ana wouldn't have finished going through the town, so I had a girl bring us our afternoon meal. We dined on scallions, olives, beef stew, wine, and finished with a bowl of fruit for dessert. From my chair I watched as Carl contemplated a plum, twisting it this way and that, as if wondering whether he wanted to eat it or not, a puzzled frown on his face all the while. Finally, he took a bite, and I laughed quietly into my peach.

The more I knew about Carl the friar, the more unlikely it seemed that he and Van Helsing should be good companions. Where Van Helsing was stoic, Carl's emotions were laid bare. Where Van Helsing was solemn, Carl provided a relative sense of levity. Van Helsing was tall, brawny, rough, and a fighter; Carl was fairly short, a bit doughy from his scholarly lifestyle, refined, and a healer. The two men were as different as could be, and yet they never seemed to be at odd ends with each other, and I even recognized a deep sense of trust between the two. Van Helsing was also very close-mouthed about his life, refusing to give Ana or me anything more than "My name is Gabriel Van Helsing" and his profession with the Vatican. It would stand to reason that Carl, his near complete opposite, might have a looser tongue.

"Carl," I inquired slyly, "what do you know about Van Helsing?"

The man looked up from his plum thoughtfully, and said, "What do mean?"

I fiddled with my own fruit for a moment, wondering, too, what I meant by my question. A solid minute passed before I decided.

"Where does he come from? Has he always been a... a monster hunter? Or did he do something before this? Does he have a family, or a wife? Have you been acquainted with him for long?" Like a person often barraged with a stream of questions, Carl handled mine expertly.

"Before I came to the church, Cardinal Jinette found Van Helsing crawling up the steps of the Vatican. He was physically in good shape, besides being half-starved and filthy with the wear and tear of travel. After he had rested for a few days, the Cardinal found that his mental health was even less fortunate. It seemed that Van Helsing had lost his memory; the only thing he knew about himself was his name. What his life was before he came to the Vatican, not even he knows.

"The Cardinal recognized a deep potential in him, as well as the need to regain his memories, and he had Van Helsing tested against the Vatican's best sword master. Surprisingly, Van Helsing was able to hold his own for a good five minutes before the man disarmed him. Cardinal Jinette had him trained by only the best - monks, priests, and mullahs alike. Only after did he begin taking missions. I met the man later, after I had been transferred to the Vatican; by then, Van Helsing had been hunting down monsters for four years. I like to research and create weaponry, and I suppose it was my experiments that led the Cardinal to recommend me to Van Helsing. We've known each other for about six months now."

As always, Carl's feelings were prominently displayed on his face for the entire world to see, so when he finished, I could tell he was keeping something from me.

"Anything else?" I prompted gently.

"Well," he grimaced. "Don't let him know I told you, but he told me he can remember fighting the Romans at Masada in 73 A.D."

I didn't even bother to mask my surprise. "How is that possible?"

Carl shrugged. "I don't know. I suspect we won't know until Van Helsing regains his memories, if ever."

"For his sake," I commented, "I hope he does. I can't imagine how powerful the curiosity must be that consumes him."

"He's a strong person," Carl mused, again attending to his plum. "He's been wondering about his past life for years now; I'm sure he can keep wondering for a while longer."

I nodded and hummed in response, leaving Carl to his thoughts as I confronted my own. Before I could delve too deeply, I noticed a tightening ache radiating steadily from my leg. With a grimace of my own, I left the study to find a servant to assist me in redressing my injury. As I made my way to the servants' quarters, I laughed wryly. Infection could kill me just as easily as Dracula could. But for all his strength, what could the mighty Van Helsing do against disease?

* * *

Later, my wound newly bandaged, I lay in bed fully clothed, quilts pulled up to my chin, and thought. After I had left Carl, I quickly found Sabina, a woman who had been working in the manor for as long as I could remember. As she sat on a stool by my bed, head bent studiously over my leg, I couldn't help but notice that her hair was turning gray. A smattering of streaks as light as moonbeams and dark as thunderclouds lay throughout her dark brown hair, peppering it with the signs of old age. I found myself staring at the wavy tresses in a kind of trance until she spoke to me, and I dismissed her.

It was such a curious thing, Sabina's hair. I had, of course, seen others with gray hair, but not often. It was very rare for the farmers or laborers in Romania to live long enough to acquire gray hair; a hard life drained them of their strength and longevity, or accidents claimed their lives early on. Sabina was currently the oldest servant working in the manor, and because of her physically undemanding profession, she was nigh on sixty years of age.

When I tried to recall if either of my parents had ever had gray hair, I realized then that neither of them did. In fact, no one close to me had ever had the opportunity to turn gray. My grandparents had either died or been killed before I was born; my mother had been murdered when I was not yet wearing corsets; my father was most likely dead, not even forty years of age; and Velkan, essentially killed in the prime of his life by lycanthropy. Would Ana and I, like the rest of our family, die before we grew old? Would we die before beginning families? Would we never have the opportunity to experience creaky joints and bad hearing? Graying hair?

Perhaps it was a meaner trick of life to slowly watch your body fall out of its youth, and grow weak with age and overuse. I had often read as much in the multitude of volumes from our study; numbers upon numbers of scholars and philosophers lamenting the frailty and mortality of the human body. But if they had been surrounded by such unnatural death, afflicting their closest relatives at such young ages, would they still write the same? Old age took years to kill a person, and so there was time to get acquainted with the idea of death; years worth of time, for both the sufferer and the onlookers. Was it a curse to die so suddenly, as most of my family had? Or a blessing? The men who wrote the books in the study would have me believe so.

But, I reminded myself, they never lived my life, and couldn't know what kind of an impact swift and unexpected death left on loved ones. What was I to believe? Could I honestly call myself lucky, when so many relatives had been stolen from me after such a brief time together? When I only had one person left in the world to care for and care for me? If I set aside the matter of a long life to that of a short life, death was a cruel master either way, indirectly ordering the actions of those whose lives it affected. Even my family was motivated by the afterlife, so much so that the Valerious tribe invented a saying, inscribed in all of the family histories at one point or another. 'Look on the brighter side of death,' my ancestors wrote; but what if I can't see the light?

* * *

When Ana returned about supper time, I had composed myself enough to fool both Van Helsing and Carl as to my current state of mind. However, my sister was not one to be deceived so easily. Before I could follow Van Helsing and Carl into the dining hall, Ana pulled me aside and asked, speaking in Romanian, "What is wrong?"

"Nothing you need be concerned about, Ana," I replied wearily in my native tongue. "I've just been thinking too much."

"Are you sure?" Her eyes, hazel like mine, scanned my face to see if I was telling the truth. I was.

"Yes. I just want this... _need_ this to be over with. It's too much stress and sorrow for a human to be forced to live with," I complained.

"I know, Syl." She paused, thinking for a moment. "How is your leg? Does it bother you when you walk?"

"No." This was partially a lie; it hurt sometimes, such as when I walked up stairs, but it was healing over. However, I could follow my sister's logic just as well as if it were my own. I knew why she was asking, and if there was anything I could say to make it happen, I would.

"Good. I was discussing it with Van Helsing, and he said if your leg was mostly healed, we would search Frankenstein Castle tomorrow just after dawn. We'll be taking horses, of course, so I don't want you to injure your leg any further just so we can do this sooner. Do you truly think your leg is well enough?" she asked again.

"Yes, Ana," I assured. "I'm ready."

"Alright," she said with a grin. "But are you ready for dinner?" she asked, motioning towards the dining hall which contained both our guests.

I frowned and gave a soft groan playfully. "Not really. Van Helsing is so difficult to hold a conversation with. Carl is sweet enough, but Van Helsing..." I wrinkled my nose. "He's dreadfully awkward."

Ana laughed and linked arms with me. "Be strong," she whispered into my ear conspiratorially as we walked into the hall. Van Helsing and Carl, standing behind their chairs and waiting for our arrival to sit, watched us as we came forward. "And be satisfied in the knowledge that even a renowned monster hunter, infamous to the rest of the civilized world, and in the employ of the Vatican Church itself, is rendered as stupid as a pubescent school boy in the face of a woman!"

We burst into unbridled laughter that eventually died down as Ana and I sat next to each other at the table. Van Helsing and Carl followed our example, and sat. When we finally ceased, Van Helsing cleared his throat and asked, "What was so humorous?" only to be rewarded with another wave of giggles.

Our journey to Castle Frankenstein was delayed for two and a half days due to a sudden storm. Carl and Van Helsing, never having experienced a Romanian storm before, were of a mind that the world must be ending; the wind howled and moaned, shaking leaves and branches loose before tossing them about the town; the rain turned into sleet, coating whatever it fell on in a thin slick of ice; the constant, loud booms of thunder shook the very manor itself. Ana and I assured them that storms this violent were a common phenomenon in Romania, and that they could sometimes be even worse.

On the afternoon of October fifth, the storm ceased almost as swiftly as it had started. We waited until the next afternoon to travel to the castle, so that the horses' hooves wouldn't get trapped in the mud. Van Helsing had reservations about traveling to Castle Frankenstein mere hours away from nightfall, but Ana was adamant about going as soon as possible.

"Velkan is suffering, and will be so long as we do not find the cure," she told him firmly, finger pointed in his chest. "I refuse to let him be in pain anymore, not when I have the power to stop it."

Van Helsing looked to me for support, but I only shrugged and turned away from his piercing gaze. The last time I had disagreed with my sister, she had lost her temper and slapped me. Obviously this was not a common occurrence, but I was loath to tempt fate again. I didn't truly blame her as it was; both of our tempers had been running short ever since our father disappeared. This issue with Velkan only made matters worse.

Despite his unconcealed disapproval, Van Helsing gave in to Ana's wishes. We three mounted our steeds and began the journey to Castle Frankenstein. Carl, not exactly suited to field work and facing the stuff of nightmares, stayed behind at the manor to continue studying Dracula's past. Perhaps a pair of fresh eyes would discover something new.

Frankenstein Castle was not far from Vaseria, just over six kilometers. Normally, our horses could traverse such a distance at a gallop, and be at the destination within ten to fifteen minutes. But because of the roads we were forced to head out at a trot, sometimes slowing to a walk when icy patches were evident. It took an hour to reach the castle, and when we finally had, it was already half past one. Though it was only October, the sun tended to set by five o'clock, and even then, clouds typically set in to obscure the sun earlier than that. We were on a tight time constraint, with only a few hours to search an entire castle, and leave with enough time to return to Vaseria and be safely indoors before the sun set.

As if he had considered all of this, and I'm almost certain he had, Van Helsing quickly dismounted his horse and tethered him to a low-lying branch.

"Come on," he insisted. Ana and I quickly followed his example, and walked the rest of the way to the castle, only about fifty meters, on foot. Rather than enter through the front entrance, however, we used one of the many service entrances located on the side and back of the castle. I silently commended Van Helsing's choice to myself as we followed him into a servant hall, where we stopped to consult each other on what to do next.

"I've thought about it," Van Helsing said, "and I think the best course of action is to split up. It may be more dangerous, but we can cover more ground."

"Alright," Ana said. I showed my acquiescence with a nod.

"Good. Now let's get moving – we don't have a lot of time."

From there, we searched every room adjoined to the hall, and when another hall cropped up, Ana was the first to branch away from the group. She gave me a smile before disappearing further into the castle, and Van Helsing and I continued. The next hall we came across, Van Helsing delved into, and then I was left alone. Shoving aside my reservations, I continued on alone, checking all the rooms I came upon. Nothing of interest could be found, and so I continued to the final doorway in the hall, which led me to a dark spiral staircase, lit only dimly by a single, thin window.

I paused before climbing the uneven stone steps, listening for any noises from Ana, Van Helsing, or anything else inhabiting the castle. Reluctantly, when I heard nothing save my own thumping heartbeat and the soft rustling of rats against the floor, I ascended.

* * *

An hour later, I was convinced Van Helsing had been wrong about Dracula living in the castle.

Where a vampire was concerned, none of the usual signs of a living creature would be present – food, waste, clothing, or any other essentials. Instead, I had to pay very close attention to small details. Was that a handprint on the window pane, or residue from the last rain? Did that disturbance of dust look like a footprint, or did a family of rats cross through here? And though I considered myself a very skilled tracker – my father had often said I was better than Ana or Velkan at noticing the small things – I couldn't positively identify any markings as coming from vampires.

After climbing the spiral staircase, I had been through several rooms and two floors. What might once have been a dining hall, a study left with only its bookcases, several guest bedrooms with decrepit beds, and accompanying antechambers. There were no details that led me to believe anyone or anything other than rats now lived at the castle. Aside from the rooms I explored, I met up again with Ana and Van Helsing, both on separate occasions. They, too, found nothing in their searches, but each went off to search more of Castle Frankenstein; Ana with some desperation, and Van Helsing with a mingled sense of smugness and pity. Alone again, and feeling a bit of despair myself, I finished searching the floor of the castle I was on, and found myself with yet another staircase to climb.

Without bothering to stifle a sigh of boredom, as I didn't believe there was anything to keep quiet from, I jogged quickly up the stairs, boots slapping loudly against the stone. I had nearly reached the top when a howl erupted from somewhere below me in the castle, punctuated by rapid footfalls. Expectantly, I stared at the bottom of the steps, took my revolver filled with silver bullets from my belt, cocked it, pointed, and waited. In no time at all, Ana sprinted up the steps, and, seeing me, yelled, "Run!"

Instead, I waited, my eyes focused intensely on the entrance to the staircase. As soon as I saw movement I shot rapidly, emptying the cylinder of my gun into the grayish-brown fur of the werewolf. Several shots connected with its face and chest, and I knew I had killed it. I only prayed, for Ana's sake, that it hadn't been Velkan, but one of Dracula's other minions. I took a stumbling step up the stairs and away from the rapidly failing werewolf as it died. I watched as it changed back into a human, shedding its fur and large size for that of its original form. Despite the bloody mess I had made of the corpse, I could tell that it hadn't been Velkan. Ana, who had quit running when she noticed I wasn't following her, stood on the next landing.

"Well?" she asked, impatient with worry.

"It wasn't him," I said dismissively, slipping my revolver back into my belt. "Let's go."

I jogged past her up the steps, not waiting to see if she would follow. I knew she would, because even though she was no longer outrunning a werewolf, she still had to outrun her fears.

There were several doors along the way to the top of the staircase, but each one was locked, and there was no way for Ana or me to knock one of them down. We kept climbing, and figured that eventually we would find an unlocked door, or perhaps another set of stairs leading away from the tower we were so obviously headed towards.

The air grew crisper and colder as we reached the open tower. A stone ledge circled it to prevent anyone from falling or being blown off. Across the way, Ana spotted another trap door, but before we could reach it the door opened, wood slamming with a _crack_ against the stonework. I fumbled my gun, but thankfully the person that emerged bore a face we knew well; Van Helsing hurriedly shut the trapdoor below him and said, "We don't want to return that way."

"What happened?" Ana asked.

"Dwergi," I answered for him. I held a finger to my lips, and in the quiet we could hear the screeching voices of Dracula's servants from down below.

"Great!" Ana blurted. "We didn't find the cure, and we didn't find the vampires. What are we to do now?"

"_Perhaps you should __**leave**_," whispered a disembodied voice, punctuated by cracking wood and a loud howl from below.

"Another werewolf," I guessed.

"I believe we've overstayed our welcome," Van Helsing stated, and waved us over to him. He took out what looked like a gun with a hook on the end of it, and shot across the river along the east side of the castle, hooking it into a tree. He tugged to make sure it was secure, and then grabbed Ana around the waist. I was about to protest before he pulled me to his chest and said, "Hold on tight."

"You don't actually expect us to make it across the river swinging on that thing do you?" I asked incredulously, but wrapped my arms around his waist anyway.

"That's exactly what I expect us to do," he retorted, readying himself at the edge of the tower. "Now jump!"

Without thinking, for I knew if I did I could never make it, I pushed myself into the air with Van Helsing and my sister, and then nearly threw up as the sensation of falling overtook my being. I didn't even notice the clouds obscuring the sun until I was suddenly ripped away from Van Helsing, and began falling in earnest. A scream escaped before I could stifle it, but before long, I was caught and found myself traveling back towards the castle. Ignoring the biting grip on my arm and burning in my shoulder, I looked up into the distorted face of Verona.

"How lovely it is to see you again, Sylvia," she crooned.

_God save me_, I thought.


	5. V

**AN**: Thanks go to my helpful reviewers, KissxTemptationx and Timeless Rose. Your comments help keep me motivated.

As always, thank you for reading.

* * *

After a brief period in the air, I was dropped unceremoniously to the floor of the tower. Luckily, I managed to land on my feet. My ankles protested the rough treatment, cracking painfully as I stood. My fighting instincts were knocked off kilter by the rapid change in events, and as such, I was a few seconds late to reach for my revolver. A cold, unbreakable grip caught my wrist as I brought it up to aim.

"I would not attempt such a thing, if I were you."

Looking up, my eyes confirmed what my ears suggested. Dracula stood but a foot in front of me, a small but grim smile spread across his pale face. I gritted my teeth and froze, quickly averting my gaze from his icy blue eyes, focusing instead on his smooth cheek. There were stories of Dracula controlling others with his eyes, and though they were only stories, I wasn't about to test their validity.

"Dracula," I hissed, pulling on my arm, still captured by the monster standing in front of me. My mind immediately went to contriving an escape plan. I thought if I could simply distract him long enough, I could perhaps use my other hand to find a dagger. I dropped the gun, letting it clatter to the ground.

"Sylvia," the vampire purred back in greeting. "It has been long since I saw you or Ana last. What brings you to Frankenstein Castle?" he asked, as if this were a social visit.

"You and your brides are too close to Vaseria," I began, and then changed my tune, taking a leaf out of Ana's book. I sneered, adding, "We came to flush you out of your hole like the rats you are. We simply couldn't endure your vampiric stench any longer."

I thought perhaps Ana might have been proud of me, had she been there; she always believed I should be more 'assertive,' as she called her biting wit. As it was, Dracula didn't much appreciate my attempt. His hand flew into my vision, and using what I'm sure was not even half of his strength, slapped me on the cheek. I gasped and reeled backwards, and probably would have fallen had he still not been clutching me in his bruising grasp. Using the sudden movement to my advantage, I let my free arm slip to the back of my thigh where a blade was hidden. If I could just get it out without him noticing...

"Do not try me, Sylvia," he warned, and out of habit, I looked into the face of the speaker. I glanced away again and mentally berated myself. I needed to keep better control of my actions, but I had underestimated the difficulty of speaking to someone without actually looking them in the eye.

As if he could hear my thoughts, or he understood the reason I was avoiding his gaze, his grin grew. Instead of lingering on my behavior however, he continued on what I assume to have been his original track.

"Who was the stranger you brought with you? The man?"

"Why do you want to know, Count?" I inched my hand along the strap of leather holding the dagger in place, feeling for the cool, familiar metal.

"This is the first time you Valerious have brought in a foreigner to help destroy me," he explained lightly, pulling my arm closer to him. I didn't even bother to resist as his fingers played over the veins in my wrist. "I merely wish to know who you think might be such an advantage in this battle of ours."

"He is from Rome," I said, stalling. My hand closed around the knife's hilt, and I slowly drew it from its hiding place. "He only just arrived a week or so ago."

"His _name_." The fingers on my wrist squeezed insistently.

The blade of the dagger had cleared its sheath. I held it, still hidden behind me, appearing to ponder my reply. Then, almost as a war cry, I answered.

"Van _Helsing_!" flew from my lips as I whipped the blade in front of me and plunged it into his neck, pushing straight up into his skull. I closed my eyes against his horrifically enraged expression, and the blood now steadily dripping from his mouth, nose, and eyes. I placed both hands on the dagger and _twisted_, ignoring the cold, black blood on my hands.

Then I ran.

Down the staircase Ana and I had first ascended, praying for the werewolf to be gone, discovering it was, running, frantic now, through the halls and toward the outside world. Tripping over my feet as I panicked, imagining the furious vampire behind me. My fingers brushing the door handle, and, believing I had just made it, a smile, before being yanked away, then flying, flying through the air. A sudden halt, crash, then nothing.

I awoke seconds later, blinding pain shooting behind my eyes. Through blurred, spinning vision I beheld the Count stalking towards me. I could do nothing as he pulled me up from the floor by my shirt, breathing heavily from exertion. I noticed dimly, that he no longer looked the image of perfection, his poise ruined by the momentary loss of control. Though the wound I inflicted had healed, blood still lingered in smears that looked to be gradually disappearing. His face, calming now, still held traces of unrestrained rage; his black hair, once contained in a ponytail, stuck out in several directions; and his eyes, cold, fathomless, terrifying.

He pulled me closer to his face, and I thought I could smell what seemed like old blood, likely from a recent feeding.

"You," Dracula breathed dangerously, "would do well never to try that again, Valerious. My patience is not _limitless_." He gave me a rough shake to emphasize his point, and the movement caused the two vampire's wavering in my vision to duplicate. I was aware of a moan, but couldn't tell if it was me or some other unlucky soul Dracula had imprisoned in the castle. It was probably just me.

"Hmph. You humans are so delicate. If you weren't useful I might be rid of you now." I closed my eyes then, unable to keep them open any longer. My head ached and throbbed painfully, and suddenly all I wanted to do was sleep.

"Open your eyes," he commanded abruptly. I did, if only to stall any further damage to myself. I tried to arrange my features into a glare, but don't think I succeeded. In a moment of clarity, I became aware that I was staring into Dracula's eyes, but by then it was too late.

_Sleep_, the voice commanded, and I did.

* * *

When I woke up sometime later, I was alone, and entirely grateful for the fact. The ache in my head had vanished while I slept, but I discovered a very painful, very large, egg shaped bump on my head, no doubt caused by my collision with the wall. Upon taking in my senses, feeling the rough stonework beneath my body, the cold breeze flowing in over me, and the rattling of chains, I opened my eyes to discover what I had guessed; I was locked in the dungeon, probably of Frankenstein Castle. Although entirely possible for Dracula to have transported me elsewhere after knocking me unconscious, I doubted it. He had mentioned something about my usefulness, and I thought that I could only be such when located in a place Ana knew of. If he was going to use me as bait, which I figured he would, Castle Frankenstein was the most logical choice.

I stood stiffly, muscles protesting from the cold, lengthy inactivity, or both. The air was cold enough to raise gooseflesh all over my body, and I noticed with some embarrassment my nipples tightening painfully. I peered through the bars that constituted one of the cell's walls, and spotted a window that was indeed open.

"Whoreson," I muttered bitingly, and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. Though I felt foolish doing it, I jumped up and down, trying to generate some amount of body heat. Eventually I became aware of a low muttering outside my cell. Still jumping, I turned my head to look outside into the dungeon's hall, and was greeted by the sight of the dwergi. Immediately, I froze.

Four of the vicious creatures stood quite near the bars, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed them approaching. They seemed to be conversing with each other in some language only they knew, though their eyes looked to be focused solely on me. Desperately, for I knew the horrors the little devils could commit, I reached for a knife in my boot, only to discover it had gone. I checked the few other places I had hidden weapons, and dismally noted that all were missing. Dracula must have taken them from me while I was unconscious in an attempt to dissuade any further retaliation.

"Right," I told myself, and settled myself against the wall farthest away from the dwergi. "They're out there, and I'm in here. They cannot reach me. I'll just wait for them to leave then."

* * *

An hour later, the dwergi were still there.

I had gradually come to sit on the floor, and so had they, apparently getting comfortable. One of them gripped the bars, and another sat sharpening a small knife. The other two simply watched me, but grated out a few words to each other every now and then. I was beginning to get bored with the entire situation, and wished for the umpteenth time that they might leave. Unfortunately, my wish was answered.

One moment it was just me and the dwergi, and then it was me, the dwergi, and Dracula. He swept into the room, black cloak swirling around his boots. In a rough, admittedly frightening voice, Dracula spoke to the dwergi in what I realized was their native tongue. Without delay, the monsters stood and departed, fairly running from their master, leaving me alone with the vampire.

"Good evening, Sylvia," the Count purred gently, a far cry from the enraged growl he had given me hours before.

In reply, I ignored him. An awkward silence filled the space between us, but he ignored it, waving aside my surliness.

"Really, Sylvia, have I done anything to you that you did not bring upon yourself?" I nearly interjected here, but decided against it. "You should be overjoyed that I have treated you so well. In fact, I have come here to offer you a measure of comfort."

"So you plan on letting me go?" I said, half in jest, half in seriousness.

"Don't be absurd," he chided. "I sent Aleera to find nourishment for you. You _are_ hungry, I assume?" He arched one of his black eyebrows, sending me a knowing look of superiority.

"Yes," I admitted. "I am, after all, still human, and need to eat everyday." _Unlike you_, I concluded mentally.

Dracula's lip curled as he looked down his nose at me from the other side of the cell. "Regrettably."

What did _that_ mean?

"Why did you come here, Count?" I asked, sick of the cryptic conversation. "Simply to inform me that you'd decided to feed me, and keep me alive? To gloat over your victory? Why?"

"Would you rather I had left the dwergi here? I can call them back," he threatened, though his voice was still light with banter.

"No, thank you," I said icily, but he continued as if I hadn't spoken at all.

"Do you know what they were saying, Sylvia? They were fantasizing about the taste of your flesh, and how long it would take you to die. How long you might _scream_, and how loudly, before they finally killed you." He stepped closer to the bars and a set of keys on a ring appeared around his gloved index finger. He jingled it tauntingly at me. "Perhaps I could let them have the keys to your cell...?"

I blanched at his words. I couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not, but I had to assume that he wasn't. If I was to survive until Ana or Van Helsing, or _anybody_, came to save me, I had to play safe. And to do that, I had to play nice.

"No, Count." I bit back a sigh, and stared into my lap with barely concealed disdain. "I appreciate your _kindness_."

I received silence in answer, and it wasn't until I looked up seconds later that I realized he had left.

"What luck," I muttered sarcastically, folding my arms behind my head and sliding to lie on the floor. I looked up at the ceiling for some time, examining the flaws and other minutiae, before my thoughts wandered.

I had only just seen my eighteenth summer, but I felt like I had been an adult for years already. My family had always been met with tragedy, but the severity of the Valerious family's feud with Dracula and his vampires did not truly hit my siblings or me until the untimely death of our mother. Ana and I had been seven, Velkan ten. We were much too young, and the loss of her shocked us all deeply. Our father did not know how to raise us as both mother and father, so he simply concentrated on his fathering role.

While we were essentially raised from that point on by a trusted maid, our father spent most of his time at home, when not reading about a way to kill Dracula, training us to become better fighters. We were drilled in the use of firearms, bare-handed combat, knives and swords, and other weaponry, until the techniques we were taught became second nature to us. My childhood had been short enough, but then to add the death of my father and the lycanthropy of Velkan to my burden, I felt like I had phased into another part of my life, beyond adulthood. There was no more enjoyment to be got, I felt. At this point, my goal seemed only to survive and to exist. I was past living.

The current predicament I found myself in exemplified and highlighted this feeling, and I found myself praying that I would be able to survive as a normal human after this was all over. Assuming we did ever kill Dracula, would I be able to live contentedly with my life, or would I not? Would I be happy with being alive, or would I someday find myself walking into a river, pockets weighted with stones?

"Princess."

I shot up out of my reclining position to see Dracula's youngest bride, thankfully, I noted, without a key. A split second after I had rejoiced over this fact, I realized she wouldn't need a key – with her unnatural strength she could simply rip the door off of its hinges.

"Hello to you, too, Aleera," I returned cautiously. She had a child-sized sack clutched in each fist, which I assumed held my food... until one of them moved. I paled, and the vampiress laughed at me.

"We may not be human, Princess," she chuckled while setting the other bag just inside the bars, "but we hunger as well." The vampire let loose a chilling cackle, high pitched and dripping with ill intent, as she suddenly disappeared.

I sat, waiting to make sure she was gone, until my hunger outweighed my caution. I unknotted the bag and pulled out a stoppered clay jug filled with water, a loaf of bread, and an entire cooked ham. I realized that wherever Aleera had gotten this food, it probably wasn't by any legal or peaceful means. Before I ate, I said grace and a prayer for the family who, hopefully, would just go hungry for tonight. I sent a second prayer for their souls, just in case they were dead.

I ate most of the ham, because I knew it would be unfit for eating in only a few hours time, and saved the bread loaf, because I didn't know how long I would be there. I saved only a small portion of the water, unable to resist its cool, refreshing taste. Then I simply sat, willing the hours to go by faster, and willing Ana to come save me.

* * *

A few hours later, I almost found myself wishing the dwergi would return; at least in that case I would have something to occupy my mind with. I had grown weary of lingering over the events of my past, and was entirely too depressed to think about the future. The cell I was in offered no occupying activities either; in an effort to keep myself from twitching nervously, I found myself counting everything I could set my eyes on.

The cell was eight paces wide and ten paces long, and it took me eleven seconds to walk its' perimeter, on average. The bars that kept me locked in were as wide as three of my fingers, but only about a quarter inch thick. Twenty-three bars were vertical and fourteen horizontal, and the sliding door was made with thirty-one metal bolts. There were one hundred and seventy-six stone bricks in the floor, and one hundred and eighty-two in the ceiling. As I was counting the number of spiders crawling out of a hole in the stonework, I drifted into a peaceful slumber, despite the cold, hard ground I lay on.

When I woke next, I ate my bread and drank what was left of my water. Afterwards I relieved my horribly urgent need to piss in a bucket that stood in the corner. Blissfully, it had been empty when I first arrived. Now, it had begun to smell a little ripe, and my nose wrinkled with distaste before I got accustomed to the rank odor. I had run out of things to count, so instead I lay on the floor for the entire day, changing positions when I grew sore, but mostly napping on and off. There was not much I could do but wait and rest at this point, so that when Ana came, I could aid in my own escape.

At some point I must have finally fallen into a deep sleep, because I was dreaming. I was lost in a forest, frozen and white with snow. Flakes flew through the air, driven by a fierce wind, biting into my flesh and stinging like the bite of a fly. I stood in the middle of the scene, alone.

Suddenly, it was like I had been thrust from my own body, and I saw myself from far away. The wind blew my dark hair in front of my face, but I could see my eyes closed against the elements. I looked lonely and frail amidst all the white, and so, so cold. My body's feet shifted slightly, and my view was brought to the ground, where I noticed a small drop of blood, stark against the whiteness of the snow. More drops appeared and I looked up. My body's mouth and eyes opened, and blood poured from them, coating everything with slick red liquid. I was thrust back into myself, but the blood kept flowing, choking me. I coughed against it, drowning from the blood in my mouth and blinded by the blood in my eyes. I began falling, feeling lightheaded with lack of oxygen, but before I could connect with the ground, I woke.

My eyes flew open and I swallowed a growing scream. My chest heaved, lungs laboring to give my racing heart the oxygen it needed. After the shock from the dream wore off, I became aware of my body, and aware that I was definitely not where I was when I first fell asleep. As soon as I connected the strong, cold arms holding my body with the intense, freezing pain at my neck, I started struggling.

I brought my knee up as fast as I could into Dracula's stomach, and writhed, trying to detach myself from his hold. Apparently caught unawares by my sudden wakening and attack, the vampire let go, dropping me to the ground. I thudded to the ground, cracking my skull on the ground once again.

"Lord," I whispered, praying, "help me." I stayed flattened against the ground, too shocked to move. Even though tears of pain clouded my eyesight, I could see the Count lick remnants of my blood from his lips as he straightened out his clothing.

"Your Lord doesn't care, Sylvia," he stated in a steely voice. "Or haven't you noticed yet?" He squatted down next to me, a hand extended to touch my face. "Your Lord is cruel, uncaring, and uninvolved with the lives of his 'children' here on earth." His icy fingers brushed against my cheek, and I shivered involuntarily. My limbs refused to cooperate, either from shock, fear, or the cold. I could only lie where I was and pray that he didn't touch me again. "When will you learn to put your faith into a being that is involved? A being that does care?"

"What, like you?" a voice called out, directly preceding the sound of an arrow whistling through the air. The soft _thunk_ of it sinking into flesh followed, and Dracula straightened with a screech of pain. I wouldn't let myself look away as he transformed into a hellbat, a disgusting and frightening performance, before he disappeared from the room.

"Syl," came the breathless voice of my sister as she kneeled by my side. From behind her, Van Helsing approached, calling, "We have to hurry. I don't know how long the holy water will keep him away." Nodding to no one in particular, I grabbed Ana's shoulder, ignoring the look on her face, and sat up. I grimaced as I strained my neck, but stood with her help.

"You came," I said, leaning on her as we quickly fled through the halls of the castle behind Van Helsing.

"I would never leave you in his hands," Ana replied fiercely.

"I know," I answered, suddenly feeling weepy. "Thank you, Ana. Thank you so much."


	6. VI

**AN**: A thanks to those few who have added this story to their alerts and favorites! Enjoy the latest chapter.

* * *

God must have been smiling down upon us that day, because we fled the castle without opposition.

Ana and Gabriel led us through halls and up dizzying staircases until we made it outdoors and to a pair of horses. While Ana mounted hers, Van Helsing helped me mount behind him; I held onto his waist as tightly as I could as we fled from the den of vampires behind us.

The trees on either side of the path to Vaseria slid past in a blur as we flew over the ground, horses pushed to their limits. The ten-minute journey back to the manor couldn't have been short enough; as soon as the horses stopped outside our stables, I toppled over in a dead faint, gone before I even hit the ground.

When I woke a few minutes later, Van Helsing was just lifting me into his arms to take me inside.

"I can walk," I protested weakly.

"No, you can't," came the matter of fact reply. With a grunt, Van Helsing adjusted me in his arms before carrying me into the manor. I saw Ana walking briskly down the hall in front of us, shouting orders to the servants for a bowl of water and bandages. My vision blurred, and everything around me fell to black as I fainted again.

The next time I woke up I was lying in my bed, and sunlight shone brightly through the window. Smiling at the good weather, I sat up and stretched, only to cry out and clap a hand to my neck as I irritated the fresh wounds in my neck. In an impressive display of speed, both Ana and Gabriel appeared within seconds.

"What's wrong?" my sister asked breathlessly, pistol clenched in one hand, a sword in the other. Gabriel held his crossbow in his hands, equally ready for any trouble.

"Nothing," I said, wincing. "I just hurt myself." My fingers trembled over the bandages wrapped around my neck, feeling for the two sensitive spots underneath.

"You were bitten." The statement came from Van Helsing, objective as ever.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at them. "I know."

"Syl," came the near-hesitant voice of Ana, "you know what happened to the last woman Dracula bit-"

"Yes," I cut her off, opening my eyes. "I know." I shied away from the look on her face, only to be caught by Van Helsing's.

"What woman?" he asked seriously.

Eventually, Ana broke the intense silence and answered him.

"The last woman from our village to be bitten by Dracula and left alive eventually became one of his wives."

"Marishka," I affirmed grimly.

"We need to kill him." Ana looked at Van Helsing now. "He's bitten her! Even if Dracula didn't gain some sort of sway over her, he must have a plan, otherwise he would have killed her while she was in his reach." She paced to the window, before turning straight back around to face Gabriel again. "There is too much we don't know about the current circumstances to just do _nothing_."

She paused, then turned her attention to a servant passing through the hall. "Florica! Bring a tankard of small ale and something from the larder." I could vaguely hear the standard "Yes, Princess," reply from the woman before she went to do as she was told. My attention was brought back to Van Helsing as he nodded.

"I already had Carl contact Rome to apprise them of our situation. All we need to do now is wait for their reply, which Carl should be delivering to us any hour now. Even though they don't do field work anymore, the Cardinal and his advisors usually give... decent advice."

As he talked, I sketched a quick timeline of events in my head; it would have taken Carl almost a full day to get to Budapest, which was where the nearest telegraph machine was located. Perhaps another hour or two for the Vatican to receive the message and deliberate on what they should send back to us, and then another day for Carl's return.

"How long have I been asleep?"

Ana looked at me and said thoughtfully, "I would say it's been around two days."

"That long?" I complained.

"Oh, Syl, how can you expect any different? You lost a large amount of blood. You had to rest."

"Tch." I scowled. "Maybe so, but who knows what that demon has been up to these past few days?"

"Even if he has been doing anything," Van Helsing reminded me, "there would have been nothing you could have done, weak as you are."

"Exactly," Ana agreed. I looked back and forth from my sister to Van Helsing suspiciously. They seemed to be getting on much better than they had been a week ago.

Before I could ask, Florica returned with the food she had been sent for. Immediately, I was distracted by the food and drink on the tray; with the sight of it, an intense hunger filled my stomach. Only as the woman leaned down to set the tray on my bed did I notice the overwhelming scent of garlic, and with it, the sight of what appeared to be a garlic necklace hanging from her neck.

"Ahhh. Hm." I was at a loss for what to say. "Florica, what is that around your neck?"

"I'm glad you asked." All of us looked to the door as Carl quickly strode into the room, still wearing dirty robes and holding a piece of paper in his hand. He had obviously just gotten back from his travels. With a wave of my hand, I dismissed Florica and she went away, leaving Van Helsing, Ana, and I to hear Carl's news.

"Before I get to the telegram, to answer your question, the necklace your servant is wearing is a protective measure," he informed me. "In fact," he muttered, "I think all of your servants and most of the villagers have started wearing garlic." He brightened suddenly. "But to explain, I was reading through some of the literature I had brought with me from Rome, and discovered a bit of information that seemed to imply garlic repelled vampires. I told Van Helsing, and apparently one of the maids overheard; a few hours later, I noticed several people had already made charms or necklaces of garlic."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is there any evidence to suggest that garlic actually works?"

"Well, no, none at all," Carl replied, still cheerful. I hid a smile at Ana's obvious disbelief. "But there's no point in not trying it anyway." As if to illustrate his point, Carl reached into his robes and pulled out a string of garlic. Deftly, he tied it around my neck before I could stop him. I was vaguely aware of Ana's stifled laughter behind Carl as he looked at me, as if waiting for praise. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, mouth wide open in bemused shock; thankfully, our resident monster-hunter saved me from scrounging up any thin compliments.

"Alright Carl, enough about the garlic," he said. "What did the Vatican send back?"

"Oh, right!" Carl seemed not at all put out at having to change the subject. He handed the telegram to Van Helsing, who began reading. Ana moved to read it over his arm. "I actually read it on the ride back," he began rambling, "because it was such a long ride and so very boring, but what the letter basically said was-"

"They want you to return to Rome!" Ana exclaimed. "Why?"

Van Helsing looked up from the letter, brows furrowed. "They want the both of you to accompany us to Rome to try to find better weapons for use against the vampires, and to do more research. They also believe that as the remaining two Valerious, you would be safer at the Vatican."

"That's ridiculous," I said at once. "Ana and I are safer here in the manor than we would be traipsing across Europe!"

Ana nodded. "And what if we were to get attacked? Four humans against Dracula and his two brides are not favorable odds at all."

"No, no, I agree with you," he said. "It would be too much of a risk for us to do as the Vatican wishes; we'll have to come up with another plan."

As we all four of us thought, I stared at Ana, and as I did the solution came to me. I didn't like it, but as far as I could see, it was the best plan available to us.

"I have the answer," I announced. When I knew I had everyone's attention, I began. "Ana, you're not going to like it, but it's a smart idea, and even _you_ will not be able to argue against it." I took a deep breath and expelled it. "Van Helsing, Carl, and Ana, you will all travel to Rome with a few of the villagers; I will stay behind in Vaseria."

"What?" Ana looked at me sharply and kneeled at my bedside. "You can't possibly mean that."

"But I do."

"It's not a bad idea," Carl chimed.

"Not at all," Van Helsing affirmed, having mulled it over for a moment. "It means that we will be able to go to Rome to get the supplies and knowledge we need, and yet also be able to assure that at least one of you will live long enough for us to defeat Dracula and save your family from purgatory. And with any luck, the vampires will see Sylvia around the village and not even realize that we have left."

"But-"

"Ana." I took her hand in mine and smiled at her. "I'll miss you, and I know you'll miss me, but we must do this if we are to kill the Count. It's the only way to save our ancestors; I wouldn't disappoint them for anything in the world."

"Neither would I!" Ana returned.

I nodded. "Exactly. This is the only way to make them proud of us, Ana. Please?"

It took a moment, but eventually she nodded. "Alright, Syl. You are right."

"It's decided then," Van Helsing spoke from the doorway. He gestured for Carl to follow him. "We'll make the necessary arrangements and see which men wish to come with us. We depart tomorrow." Their footsteps faded into silence, and Ana and I were left alone. I patted the empty bed next to my legs, and Ana sat.

"I don't really like this," she admitted.

"I know." I shrugged. "To be truthful, neither do I."

Her face was a picture of confusion. "But you were the one to propose it!"

"Yes, but just because I knew it needed to be done. I felt that it was the right path to choose. That doesn't mean I'm not worried and completely afraid for us to be separated." The smile on my face faltered, and finally I let it drop.

"Syl." Ana sighed. She inched herself forward and gave me a hug that immediately relaxed my tensed muscles. One hand rubbed in circles over my back, while the other smoothed my hair. "I love you so much. I can't imagine ever living a life without you in it." I opened my eyes wide to try and keep the tears from falling, but eventually I had to close them and the salty drops spilled over.

"Neither can I," I told her. I pulled away from her and saw that her own cheeks were shiny and wet. I gave a watery smile. "You'll just have to make sure you come back to me."

"And you must be sure to be here when I return," she quipped.

I laughed and put my forehead to hers, near identical hazel eyes meeting in agreement.

"Deal."

* * *

By sunrise the next morning they were gone.

I let my hand drop from its wave when the small procession disappeared over the hill and turned on my heel to go inside. I strode purposefully to the library, but when I reached it, I had no idea what to do. I had always been in the company of at least one family member for all of my life; this sudden state of solitude left me clueless. I could spend time with the villagers, but I was worried about catching cold. After losing so much blood, I might get myself sick if I wandered outside in the cold October air.

In lack of a better way to spend my time, I started rereading one of my family's books on Dracula for what seemed to be the hundredth time. I let my task consume me; the only time I left the room was to use the washroom and to have food brought to me.

The day passed quickly, and before I knew it, servants were bringing in candles to ward off the growing darkness, and it was night. As I was reading a piece specifically about my ancestor Valerious the Elder, my heavy eyelids finally gained the advantage and I succumbed to a deep sleep.

"_Why did you let him live?"_

_The scarred old man in front of me shook his head, sending frail white hair swinging. "I could not kill my son. Would you kill your own flesh and blood? Even if God commanded it?"_

"_Yes," I answered unerringly. "To save humanity and that person from a curse like vampirism, I would."_

_The man shook his head again, and then disappeared. In his place stood my mother._

_At first, she looked exactly like she had before she died; dark haired, pale, beautiful, familiar. As I looked closer though, I noticed the blood on her neck and the torn flesh where her throat had been ripped out; realized that she was dead, gone, never coming back. A scream sounded from somewhere else, but I paid no attention to it._

"_What happened?" my mother asked me._

"_You died," I said, slightly confused. Is this what she wanted to know? Did she not know she was dead?_

"_You are so white," she said, and touched my cheek. Oddly, she felt strikingly warm._

"_Mama?"_

_For a moment, she looked at me. Then, with a distinct sadness in her voice, she told me, "She's dying," and then stepped back._

"_Mama, what are you saying? Who's dying?"_

"_Yes," she said. "But we must to try."_

"_What do you _mean_?"_

_I watched as she put her hand to my neck, then pulled it away so I could see the smear of blood. Suddenly, I was aware of my pulse fluttering, and my heart beating rapidly and painfully in my chest. It was difficult to breathe. I looked back to her, stunned._

"_We can save her," she told me firmly. "Just have faith."_

_As my vision faded to black, I could still hear her._

"Have faith."

* * *

"Nnn..."

"She's waking up."

My eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly against the soft sunlight filtering into the room.

"Sylvia."

As my eyes adjusted to the low light, I squinted and turned to see Carl by my bedside. Van Helsing stood next to him, by the foot.

"What's going on? What has happened?" I asked, then frowned at the scratchy sound of my voice. Was I catching cold? "Did you decide not to go to Rome after all?"

I made a move to sit up, but Carl pressed a hand to my shoulder to keep me still. "It's not wise for you to be moving just yet," he said gently. "You're likely to pass out."

"Why? And why are you both here in my bedroom?" I paused, then finally realized what felt so wrong. "Where is Ana?"

"You were bitten again after we left for Rome," Van Helsing told me with a sigh, straight to the point. "Your maid found you in the library on the couch, nearly dead. You've been asleep for two days; it's October twenty ninth." After a brief silence, it was evident he was reluctant to continue.

"What happened to my sister, Van Helsing?" I asked with growing apprehension. I struggled to sit up, and when Carl realized I wouldn't simply lie down, helped me up with supporting hands on my shoulders.

"Van Helsing?"

"One of Dracula's two remaining brides took her," he told me. "We weren't able to keep her safe, Sylvia. I'm sorry." His eyes looked into mine, almost asking for forgiveness.

"You... you lost her? You let _him_ get his hands on her?" I could feel my anger rising, a quick temporary way to keep the intense fear at bay. I yelled, "I thought you would keep her safe! Are you the famed vampire hunter I've heard of or not?" Dizziness suddenly overtook me and I reached out a hand to brace myself on the bedpost. When it passed, I glared at him long and hard. Carl awkwardly looked between us before muttering something about fetching some tea, and leaving.

"We'll get her back," Van Helsing said confidently. "I promise you now, Sylvia, we will get her back."

"You had better," I snarled. "Because _I_ promise you that if any harm has befallen her, I will do my best to make you hurt." I waved him away with my hand. "Leave, just go. I don't want to see you anymore." I could feel a headache forming already.

He walked to the door, but stopped, and looked at me again. "You should know we met your brother along the way to Rome, before Ana was taken." Another pause. "Again, I am sorry; he died." Without another word, he left.

When I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore I pulled my knees up to chest and cried.

A few hours later, toward midday, I was tucking a pistol into my belt. Just minutes before I had managed to convince a maid to help me dress, despite advice against such a move from Carl. I refused to stay in bed when I could be doing something, even if it was simply searching through the library again. There had to be something that we were missing, and I was going to find it. The pistol was for protection, in case Dracula or another vampire came for me again. I was sick of being caught unawares by my enemies. Though it confused me greatly, I didn't want to linger on the fact that even though I had been attacked by vampires twice inside of a week, I was still among the living. I simply took it in stride; the answers I would come up with for the reason of my continued existence would likely only complicate things anyway.

I finished adjusting the gun, looked up as I was taking a step out into the hall, and immediately collided with a rock hard chest.

"Hello, Van Helsing," I greeted calmly as he let go of my elbows, which he'd grabbed to keep me from falling. I would never tell him, but I was grateful for his helping hand – I'd have collapsed to the floor if he hadn't caught me.

"Sylvia." He nodded. I started walking down the hall again, and he fell into step beside me. I let the silence linger until we reached the library, where I immediately sank into a chair by the fireside. I was still weak, and even the short walk I'd just taken tired me out. Van Helsing stood across from me by the mantle.

"So," I said, "what it is you want to speak to me about?"

Not at all abashed, he said, "I think Carl and I should try to locate and rescue your sister. But first, I think we should get you to Rome."

"I would be safer there," I mused. "But what makes you think that it will work? What if the same thing that happened to Ana happened to me?"

He nodded. "I thought that might be a problem, but Carl pointed out that since Dracula already has Ana in his possession, he probably won't try to capture you again. In any case, one of his brides appeared to us after Ana had been taken. I wasn't planning on telling you because I thought we could save Ana without resorting to this, but as it seems, we cannot. She said that Dracula would be having an All Hallows' Eve ball in Budapest, and that Dracula would make a trade there."

"And that trade...?" I pressed.

"You for your sister," he said baldly. "However, if we travel to Budapest and set you on a train for Rome, you would be safely out of the way while Carl and I attempted the rescue."

I stared into the fire, waiting for an answer to come to me. I wasn't sure if it was the right one or not, but eventually it came.

"Yes," I agreed. "Let's do it."

We spent the rest of the day preparing for the journey. To avoid being too conspicuous, we decided to forego having any men from the village accompany us. We packed lightly, bringing only what our horses could carry. When Van Helsing asked, I decided against telling anyone where we were headed, just in case the vampires decided to try and get information from the villagers. After a night's rest, we set out for Budapest at daybreak.

The ride was long, lasting a tiring ten hours. We stopped as little as possible in order to make the best time, and kept a punishing pace the whole trip, arriving in Budapest only a few hours after noon. As soon as we entered the town, Van Helsing signaled to pull up our hoods; we couldn't be sure where Dracula had spies, or if he had them at all, but it was better to be safe. We checked into a hotel, stabled our horses, and Carl and Van Helsing went reluctantly amongst the shops to find masquerade outfits for Dracula's ball. I had laughed when Carl told me what kind of ball it was, much to Van Helsing's displeasure, and if I was right, embarrassment. I was left alone in the room to quickly clean myself as best I could from the dirt and grime of travel, and when the two men got back, we left for the train station.

"Send a telegram to the Vatican as soon as you get her back," I commanded. We stood on the platform by the side of the train, nearly ready to go. "And let me know what our next plan of action is."

I thought I saw Van Helsing roll his eyes from under his wide brimmed hat. "Yes, of course. Get on the train before it leaves without you."

I ignored him. "I never did thank you, Carl, for helping me when I had been attacked by Dracula. So... thank you." I held my hand out awkwardly.

Enthusiastically, the friar shook it and I smiled at him.

"You are very welcome."

I let go of his hand, and looked back to the train. A conductor called out that a minute was remaining for all boarders.

"I will hear from you soon, yes?" Van Helsing nodded once. "Then I won't say goodbye." I grinned good-naturedly, and hoisted my single bag containing only money and a spare change of clothing onto my shoulder. I jogged to catch the train, already slowly moving past the platform, and hopped on.


	7. VII

**AN**: Well, I won't make this long because this chapter is a bit of a doozy and I want you to enjoy it as quickly as possible. This is most definitely my favorite chapter to date; can you guess why?

A thanks goes out to my reviewers - few though they are, your input really helps. Thank you!

Please, enjoy the chapter! Reviews are always welcome.

* * *

I was surprised to find that the first train car was completely full. Not one seat was left open. The same could be said of the second, third, and fourth cars. It hadn't occurred to me that many people would be traveling from Budapest; in fact, I had thought I'd be one of few. Apparently more people were traveling to the east than I had imagined.

Finally, in the fifth and last passenger car there was a free bench to sit on. A man wrapped in a dark cloak sat slumped against the window, apparently asleep, on the bench opposite it.

Quietly, so as not to wake the man up, I sat and arranged my bag next to me on the seat. I looked down a moment to make sure I still had everything, and when I looked back up I was facing a pair of familiar, glittering blue eyes.

"Hello, Sylvia."

It all happened faster than I could comprehend. The cloak had come off; Dracula was sitting in front of me, and then suddenly his hand was wrapped around my neck, pinning me to the back of the bench. I couldn't hold back a slight scream as the air was pushed from my lungs, and my hands automatically came up to grasp his and pull. I kicked out in a desperate attempt to be free, but when I actually managed to hit him, he backhanded me. My vision went black with the force of the blow, and when it came back everything was spinning.

"I do not wish to hurt you, Sylvia," the count breathed next to my ear. I struggled to move away, but his hold on my neck only tightened. "I thought," he continued, as he laid me down on the bench, neck caught in his grip like a hare in a dog's mouth, "that this would be easier done, especially after I had nearly drained you. But I underestimated the stubbornness you Valerious all seem to exhibit. Exactly like your brother – and your father." He grinned at me, but it looked more like a sneer.

"Don't talk about my family, Vampire," I spat out. "Someone will stop you."

To my utter surprise – and horror – he laughed. "Look around you. Did you not think it strange that every car except this last one was filled? That the only seat available was next to _me_?" He gestured with a sweeping hand motion to the rest of the people in the car. "Behold, my loyal children."

From my peripheral vision I could see bared fangs and unnatural eyes; I heard the hisses and licked lips well enough, too.

"Impressive, is it not?"

I glared at him, and, summoning all the courage I had in my being, spit in his face. Calmly, he wiped it off, and hit me again.

"Soon, Sylvia. Soon you will be just as loyal to me as they all are. And you will _love_ it."

"I won't," I snarled back. "No matter what you do to me, you could never make my loyalties lie with you."

"Ah, yes; that pigheadedness shows itself yet again. But I think you forget that I have your sister?"

I stilled for a moment, frozen with fear at his veiled threat, and that was all the time he needed.

He pinned my arms to my sides as he straddled my body, and ripped open the underside of his wrist with his nails. Before any of the blood fell, he placed it to my lips. However, as soon as I realized what was happening, I shut my mouth tight. The blood, unwanted, began to slide down the sides of my face. I shuddered.

Above me, Dracula sighed.

"I can always trust a Valerious to make such simple tasks difficult," he observed. "However, it seems that that skill is the only one you possess." Using the hand whose wrist wasn't currently poised above my mouth, he pinched shut my nose so that I could no longer breathe.

_Oh, God_, I thought, as the urge for fresh air burned stronger in my lungs. I held out for as long as I could, but in the end it was no use. My mouth opened wide to gulp down air, but there was only blood. It was cold, so cold. I gasped and spluttered against it, trying desperately to get air, but only his blood slid down my throat. It felt like an eternity before Dracula took his wrist away, and I could fill my lungs with oxygen. I took a deep, shuddering breath and squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry or scream. My stomach hurt. I struggled, but finally couldn't hold back a set of breathy sobs as I thought about what had just happened.

Dracula, now standing next to the bench, looked coldly down at me.

"'So wise so young, they say do never live long.' And life goes on." With a sharp gesture of his hand, I was handed into the care of his vampire children.

Bloodstained and rapidly regaining a clear head, I did not stir, nor did I try to break free. Soon I was flying through the air back to Budapest, in the arms of the devil's children.

Even after the few short minutes traveling through the cold air, my limbs were frozen stiff. When I was dropped to the ground on the turret of a large building (Dracula's palace, I presumed) I would have fallen had one of the vampires not caught me. I jumped away from the solid, cold body that braced me and shuddered as it and its brethren laughed. I turned away from the faces of the vampire minions around me, looking for a way out of this mess.

After a moment, I concluded that I was surrounded by Dracula's servants, and there really was no chance of an escape here. I felt like a hunted animal, surrounded by a pack of wolves who would eat me if only given the go-ahead from their alpha.

"Come, Princess," one of the leeches said, stepping out of the ranks that surrounded me. I tensed again as she laid a hand on my forearm. In a flash, my other hand was filled with the comforting weight of a dagger, and flying towards the face of the vampiress. Of course, she caught it.

She squeezed my wrist until I dropped the blade, cursing her and all her kind with some of the most imaginative phrases I could think of.

"What a mouth the princess has," she commented laughingly to her peers, who sniggered. "No wonder our master desires this one." Dropping my arm, she grabbed my chin, forcing me to look her in the face. She was pale, as all vampires are, and her green eyes, while a normal color, were not in the least bit ordinary looking. I glared, daring her to do something.

"I am charged not to hurt you, Princess, but if you try my patience I will simply mark you where it won't show." She looked my body up and down before continuing. "You will accompany me to a room down below where you will bathe, and then dress in the clothes the master has chosen for you. You will also allow me to make you up properly for the ball tonight. The master commands it."

"He is not _my_ master," I snarled. She only laughed, and we began our descent into the palace.

We went down the spiral staircase for quite a while; so long that I became dizzy with the continued circular motion. When we finally stopped, the vampire led me down a hall and into a room, where I proceeded to do exactly what she had told me to do, though with reluctance. If I had seen any way to fight her off, I would have, but one cursory glance around the room let me know there was nothing with which to kill her.

I was more wary than embarrassed to undress in front of the woman; to her, I was nothing more than a toy, or worse, food. However, nothing happened, and I bathed in the wooden tub without incident, gladly washing the dried blood from my face and hair. I dressed in the clothes given to me silently, and let the vampire arrange my hair, and apply make up. It only occurred to me as she was leaving the room that Ana might be in same building as me.

"Wait," I cried as she was closing the door behind her, "is my sister here?" to which she replied with a laugh, shutting the door with a final _click_. I clutched the door handle and tried to open the door, but it was locked, as I could have guessed.

I clenched my fists by my side in frustration and let loose a scream. I panted and huffed, pacing around the small room, so fed up, and just _angry_.

"Why does nothing ever go right for us?" I yelled, my eyes pointed futilely to the ceiling as if the Lord himself would come down from heaven. "No matter what we do or how hard we struggle, everything always comes out wrong!" I paused, struggling to form the thought that was pressing at the front of my mind. "Do You not want us to succeed?"

I stopped as soon as the words burst from my mouth. What was I thinking? I had just blasphemed, questioned the workings of God, questioned the mission of my family. How could I believe that my family had fought and died for nothing? For a God who didn't believe in us? Who didn't care?

I could not. I would not, _dared_ not think that way. I promised myself, still uneasy at heart for my thoughts, to ask for penance to rectify my mistake once I found a priest.

I shook myself, looked around to see where my pacing had led me, and looked straight into the mirror, into the face of a stranger. Looking a bit closer, I realized that it was _me_.

I didn't know what to think; I finally came up with "hussy." I hadn't bothered to look in the mirror to see what the vampiress had done to me when she was 'making me up;' now I could see she had rouged my cheeks and painted my lips, an almost obscene, lewd shade of red. My hair was half pulled up, but the rest was left to trail over my back and shoulders; I noticed grimly that my neck would be exposed for all to see, the bite marks quite visible. They were red, angry dots standing out starkly against my pale skin.

The dress I was now wearing could only ever have been worn by high-end prostitutes. The neckline dipped indecently low, just past my breasts, and there were no sleeves. I was actually slightly thankful to be wearing gloves, white to contrast the black dress, so that less skin was showing. I was wearing high heels, something I never did normally, always preferring to wear low heels because of the rather rigorous activities I was usually engaged in. A necklace was draped around my neck, and earrings were pushed through the long-neglected holes in my ears; they stung with the weight of the jewelry.

Suddenly seized by rage, I tugged angrily at the clip holding my hair up and pulled it out, shaking my hair loose again. I ripped the necklace from around my neck, threw it on the floor, and did the same with the earrings. Using a sheet from the canopy bed pushed up against one of the walls, I wiped away as much of the makeup as I could. Looking back to the mirror, I still wasn't pleased with what I saw.

I pulled the drawers roughly from dresser, letting them fall to the floor with a clatter, looking for a scrap of ribbon or something of the like. After rummaging around for a minute or so, I found a black ribbon that was about two inches thick. Looking in the mirror, I tied it around my neck, covering the two punctures.

As soon as they were out of sight, I felt calmer, more reasonable. I looked around at the mess I had caused and shrugged, then yawned. A wave of sleepiness suddenly washed over me, and I stumbled to the bed. As soon as I touched the soft mattress, I made the seamless transition to unconsciousness, and I was asleep.

Seemingly seconds later, I was awoken by a deafening a cry of, "Sylvia!" followed by a crushing hug.

My eyes fluttered open to see Ana smiling at me.

"Ana!" I exclaimed, holding her off me slightly so I could stand and hug her in return. "I asked about you, but no one would tell me anything. How are you? Are you alright?" Anxiously, I held her arm length away from my body to look her over for injuries.

She laughed, slightly tinged with sadness. As she spoke, it occurred to me that she was talking quite loudly, but I ignored it. "I'm fine, Syl. How are you? How did you get here?"

I could feel the blood draining from my face as I thought about the incident on the train. Still, I managed to keep the look of fear from my face as I answered.

"After you'd been captured, Van Helsing and Carl decided to come to this ball Dracula is having to try to rescue you. Meanwhile, I was meant to be on a train bound for Rome and the Vatican. Unfortunately," I said with distaste, "Dracula was waiting for me." I gestured to myself, and my current state of dress. "And here I am."

"I see they've also dressed you for this farce," she commented wryly. Ana herself was wearing a gown nearly identical to mine, save the color scheme. Her jewelry and hair were still intact though, I noticed with a small grin.

Suddenly, she frowned and looked hard into my face. "Sylvia, your eyes..."

"What about them?"

"They're green!"

"_What_?"

I turned from her and took the few steps to the mirror at the dressing table, peering into its reflecting glass. Sure enough, my eyes were no longer their original muddy hazel, but a bright, startling green, like emeralds. It took me no time to connect the events on the train to this change in my appearance. Suddenly, it clicked. Not only was the change in my eye color due to Dracula's blood, but so was my enhanced hearing. Only now did I realize Ana was not talking loudly; it simply felt that way because my hearing was sharper. I was willing to bet that those two were not the only side effects. Unknowingly, I started to tremble.

"Sylvia!" Ana rushed to me, holding my shoulders, and spun me around to face her. "What's wrong? You know, don't you? Tell me, Syl, please. You can't just keep this to yourself, I need to help you. Syl, please!"

"Ana..."

I was afraid of what she would say; afraid of what she might _do_. I was no longer fully human – that was obvious to me now. My family's mission was to kill Dracula and his minions, whether they be vampire, human, werewolf, or somewhere in between. I was afraid that I was now in that group; that I was next to be killed.

Another part of me, the more rational part, knew that Ana wouldn't kill me. She would try to find the cure for me, whether that meant killing Dracula or something else, just like she'd tried for Velkan.

My mind made up, I started again.

"Ana, on the train... The Count... he ga-"

"How wonderful," came a dark voice from the door, as it was slammed open from the outside. Ana and I jumped, looking to the source with apprehension and dread. "My two favorite Valerious in the same room, waiting so elegantly to do my bidding." Dracula stepped in from the unnatural shadows and bowed mockingly to us. Tipping his face upwards to keep us in his gaze, he finished, "Both looking rather ravishing, too."

While I fumed with rage, I expected to hear some snide remark from Ana. However, after a moment, I realized none would be forthcoming. I turned my eyes to look at her, only to see her gazing blankly at the wall in front of her.

"Ana?" I asked fearfully. Suddenly angry, I rounded on Dracula, voice raised to a near yell, "What did you do to her?" I lifted a fist in blind rage, prepared to try and cause whatever damage I could, but his large hand closed around mine before I could even get near. Subtly, he squeezed, immediately clearing my head with a wave of pain.

"So violent," he commented lightly, almost amused. Without even bothering to look at me, he said, "Your sister is weak; easily held under mind control with little resistance." With a nod to her, he said, "Look."

I watched with a sick dread as Ana walked to the dresser and picked up a masquerade mask. Deftly, she put it on and turned to Dracula, waiting. _For his command_.

"Leave her alone," I ordered, though I knew I was hardly the one in command of this situation.

"I do not think I will." Shifting his hold from my hand to my wrist, he spun me away from him, held out by an arm's length. "I enjoy toying with you both. Why stop when neither you nor anyone else can do anything about it?" He paused. "Put on the other mask."

"No," I refused immediately.

He grinned sarcastically. "While I am sure you believe disobeying me accomplishes something, it does not. _Put the mask on_," he commanded letting go of my arm.

"I will not," I maintained, looking away from him.

"Fine," he smiled, this time with ill intent. "Then I will force you."

With a sudden rush of adrenaline, I picked up one of the drawers that lay on the floor and launched it at the Count's head. I was pleased to note that it clipped him on the forehead, leaving a bleeding gash. I danced out of his arms reach, and pulled down the mirror with a loud crash. Ducking quickly, I picked up one of the shards of glass and brandished it like a dagger.

In front of me, wound already healing, Dracula chuckled.

"Yet again you surprise me, Sylvia. After the last few decades, I was beginning to think you Valerious had no new tricks up your sleeves." He straightened to his full height and said, "I will not underestimate you again."

One moment he was standing in front of me; the next he was pressed up against my back, knocking the glass shard from my hand and pulling me to him with a bruising grip across my stomach, trapping my arms against my sides.

I yelled, kicking and wriggling, trying to be free of him, but he was unrelenting.

With his free hand, he grabbed a hank of my hair and pulled my head back, baring my neck. His fingers, nearly ice cold, trailed along my jaw and down my neck to land at the ribbon I'd tied around my throat. He tugged at it, questioning.

"I see you have covered my mark, Sylvia," he said. "I assume that is how this room came to be such a mess." I shivered as his breath passed along my skin, raising gooseflesh. "Are you so ashamed?" When I didn't answer, his arm crushed me closer to him, silk dress rustling.

"I am," I gasped. "Yes. _Yes_!"

"Of course you are," he agreed in a deceptively calm, warm voice. His arm loosened perceptibly and I took a deep breath. "But you will learn to covet this mark," he said, voice growing more threatening with each word, "when it is that which will keep you from being drained by any other vampire. Unless you _wish_ to die? That can be easily accomplished, I assure you." His lips lingered over my throat, and I could picture the deadly fangs concealed behind them.

"No," I relented.

"'No' what?"

"No, I do not wish to die," I said, teeth grinding in displeasure.

"That is what I thought," he purred, pleased again. He let go of my hair, and my neck straightened stiffly. Gently, he tugged on the bow I'd made with the ribbon, and it fell from my throat, fluttering to the ground. When his arm loosened from holding me against him, I made to step away, but he caught my hand again, tugging me close.

"You're bleeding," he said simply, eyes focused on mine. As my eyes were caught in his, he turned my hand over so the palm faced up, and licked at the blood welling from the slices in my hand. I hadn't even noticed them when he'd gotten the glass away from me. I stood, transfixed, as he cleaned the red liquid from my hand and fingers with his tongue. When he was done, he simply let me go. I could only stare.

The cuts were already healed.

"Let us go," he said peremptorily, stepping away from me and towards the door. Ana, still being controlled by him, walked to meet him. He put his arm out, and she laid hers atop his. I hadn't noticed till now that Dracula was also dressed differently; at least, differently from what I'd seen he usually dressed in.

Above his normal black apparel lay a gold encrusted cape, sparkling in the candlelight. His hair was also held back by a different, richer clasp. His earrings, hoops, were gold to match.

The warmer colors almost made him look human – and dare I think it – handsome.

From the cape, Dracula drew a mask; his own, I suspected. Though his face was tilted down, his eyes slid up to mine, and he smirked.

He would not need to wait long, and he knew it.

Without a word, I walked to the dressing table and picked up the mask with slightly trembling hands. I closed my eyes to put the mask on, and when I looked back to Dracula, he was walking away, my sister on his arm. In his place stood another vampire, a male.

I swallowed nervously. I was beginning to realize that without my weapons there really was not much I could do against the vampires; and so went my defiance.

"The master wishes me to accompany you into the ballroom," the vampire said with an elegant bow. He straightened and approached me like one might a frightened animal. He had kind looking brown eyes; I did not trust him. "My name is Fane. Would you allow me to take your arm, Princess?"

I nodded tersely and placed my arm atop his.

"It is an honor," he said graciously, despite my rudeness, and out we went, through the halls and down a staircase, through one last hall, and into the ballroom.

As Fane led me through the sea of people I suspected were not really _people_ at all, I scanned the area and looked for all exits or possible escape routes. I took note of the trapeze artists flying through the air, the unearthly music, the fire blower, the sheer amount of undead creatures around me. Most importantly, I looked for my sister. When I found her, I could feel my temper rising as my blood boiled in rage.

Dracula was parading her about the other couples, dancing – but he was also touching her with his cold, unloving hands anywhere he could find bare skin. He was practically fondling her, as if he was her husband or lover, God forbid.

I must have made a move towards them, because the vampire – Fane? – took my hands in one of his and pulled me close with the other around my waist.

"I am not to let you interfere, Princess," he said mechanically, obviously just reiterating what he'd been ordered by Dracula.

"Let _go_ of me!" I shouted, absolutely enraged now. "I refuse to let that monster touch my sister in such a way. Ana! _Ana_!"

I was jerked roughly around to face Fane again, but as he did so my eye caught something on the balcony level behind him. I strained to see what it was I had noticed, and before the vampire holding me took my chin in his hand and forced my eyes in the direction of his choosing, I thought I saw two men. To be specific, one tall man with dark hair and another, shorter, with blonde.

They looked like Van Helsing and Carl.

I smiled a slow, pleased smile. In front of me, Fane seemed puzzled by my rapid change of mood.

"You will not yell anymore?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I will not. Everything is alright now."

Thankfully, Fane did not seem to be a very bright vampire, and he had no idea what it was I might be talking about. However, after the next few moments I think he understood.

A head splitting roar filled the cavernous room when the flame blower set Dracula's cape afire. Ana was gone; I looked up and smiled to see her and Van Helsing landing safely on the upper level's balcony. The vampires all around us stopped completely; a stillness no human could ever hope to achieve.

Suddenly, I was being walked over to Dracula and he took hold of me possessively; one arm held me pressed up against his side while the other held my hand in front of us. He squeezed my hand when I tried to move away, so I simply stood for it. I looked up to the balcony at Van Helsing, Carl, and Ana, who was now coming out of the trance Dracula had put her in. I grimaced at the look on their faces, especially Ana's.

Beside me, Dracula leered at Gabriel.

"Gabriel," he sang out, "oh, _Gabriel_." His mouth twitched at some hidden joke yet to be disclosed, and then finished;

"Welcome to my summer palace."


	8. VIII

As Dracula finished speaking, the air filled with hisses, snarls, and the clicking of teeth as canines elongated into fangs.

Without looking away from Van Helsing, Ana, and Carl, I watched them tense. I cursed Van Helsing for not expecting Dracula to have some sort of trick up his sleeve; it was obvious that the Count never intended on giving up my sister in an honorable trade. Now he, Carl, and Ana were trapped with no likely means of escape. If he were to die, and Ana with him, we Valerious would truly be lost. There had to be a way to get at least them out of here; I could be forgotten for now if it meant Ana could escape.

My eyes met Van Helsing's from where I stood beside Dracula. It only took a moment, and I saw him nod almost imperceptibly at the look on my face. I knew then I could trust him to leave me behind and save Ana. It was simply up to me to provide a distraction.

The second I had the thought, I acted on it; I knew if I thought about it, I would never be able to go through with it. In one fluid movement, I leaned up, my body pressing uncomfortably against Dracula's, dragged his mouth down to mine with a hand wrapped around his neck, and kissed him.

The moment my lips met his, my eyes flashed open, and I was immediately caught in the Count's blue gaze. I couldn't be sure how long we stood there, but when the time came for me to pull away, the general feeling I had was not one of unpleasantness. In fact, if I were to be honest with myself, I would say that I had enjoyed it. I was out of breath, my lips tingled, and a new unfamiliar warmth had settled over my body.

Still, I hadn't been completely sidetracked from my goal. I snuck a peak over my shoulder to the balcony where Ana and the others stood, to find that they had made use of my sudden move. They were gone.

I nearly breathed a sigh of relief until I remembered that I myself was still in the grasp of Dracula, with whom I had just shared a kiss. I chanced a look up to the vampire whose hands still gripped my shoulders. _When had they gotten there?_ His expression was unreadable. I jumped despite myself when his loud voice broke through the silence surrounding us.

"Van Helsing has gone!" he shouted. "Do not pursue him. But if you see him... kill him." At that moment, he looked at me. "Spare _none_ accompanying him."

And then, instead of being surrounded by a mass of fanged vampires, I was alone with Dracula in the same room I'd started out in. The mess had gone, the broken mirror replaced, and a new, simpler dress lay on the bed. Dracula stepped away from me, releasing my shoulders from his grasp.

"Change," he said simply, seating himself in a chair by the vanity.

"You expect me to change with you watching?"

"Quickly," he added, hands clasped over his stomach, leaning back confidently in the chair.

I wasn't about to change with him in the same room, and simply stood where I was, ignoring both the Count and his orders, until-

"I will change you myself unless you start undressing _now_, Princess."

I gritted my teeth angrily, and stormed over to the bed. Despite how uncomfortable and wrong it felt to take off my dress in front of him, I slipped off the ball gown and heels, shivering as my body, clothed only in a waist cincher and bloomers, came into the cold air. As quickly as I could, and with my back turned to the Count, I grabbed the other dress and began slipping it over my head, when cold fingertips ghosted across my back.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked through rapidly numbing lips. I couldn't imagine what he might do to me at this moment. I was half naked and completely defenseless, and there was no one here who could (or would) stop him from doing whatever he had in mind. It was with a rapidly panicking mind that I heard his next sentence.

"Unlacing you," Dracula answered easily. I almost didn't believe him, but I couldn't deny that I only felt him tugging on the laces as he stood behind me. Still, I was on edge until he backed away, taking the cincher with him, so I could settle the dress over myself. When I had finished, Dracula took the cincher and placed it around my torso, lacing it up for me again. Not once, I noticed, did he pull too tightly.

"There," he announced once he had done. I turned around to face him, immediately regretting it when my face came only inches away from his.

I caught my breath, lip trembling as his thumb came up to my jaw, tracing it lightly. I knew my breath was coming faster, my heart was beating rapidly in my chest, and that pleasant warmth was filling my body again. I was sure Dracula, standing so close to me, knew it, too. He could probably feel it.

_He must be controlling my mind,_ I thought feverishly. _This doesn't make any sense_. _Why would I feel this way at _his_ touch, of all creatures in the world? _How_ could I?_

His hand opened for his palm to cup my face, and I could only stand frozen as his other came up and smoothed back my hair. I waited breathlessly as he leaned down, both dreading and somehow anticipating this. My eyes fluttered shut as he neared and I waited. But his kiss fell to the top of my head instead of my lips. I let my breath escape me, and opened my eyes to see Dracula, looking down at me with a kind expression on his face I'd never before seen.

"Sylvia..."

Then he said something else completely unexpected:

"I wish to brush your hair."

I couldn't describe the compulsion that made me sit in the chair he directed me to; made me let my guard down enough to let Dracula, the master and first of all vampires, run a brush through my curly hair as if he _wasn't_ a monster.

Contrary to the myth, I could see Dracula's reflection in the mirror on the vanity as he brushed my hair; it was very, very faint, but there nonetheless. He looked so different from the vampire I knew, the one who terrorized my family and killed the villagers, causing suffering everywhere he went. The one who had, just hours earlier, forced his undead blood on me. To see him now, so tame as he indulged in a whim to brush a human's hair, went against everything I knew. I shut my eyes against the vision, refusing to let myself be conflicted in such a way.

I hated him, I knew that. Even though he was acting kind and sweet now, I would not let myself forget the horrors he had been committing for centuries. I couldn't let myself forget.

After a minute of brushing, I felt myself beginning to doze off. Above me, as I struggled to open my eyes, Dracula spoke.

"Relax," he murmured soothingly. "No harm will come to you."

I told myself no, not to listen to whatever he was saying; whatever my body was saying. I couldn't afford to relax my guard around him. Still, the brush was running smoothly through my hair now, all knots completely gone. The fine bristles felt wondrous against my scalp, and I couldn't help but doze off as I reclined in the chair.

Out of the hazy, sweet darkness of sleep came a pleasant tingling sensation. It trailed its way down my jaw, down my throat. Something supported my neck as if I was a babe again; I leaned back into the touch, sighing with innocent pleasure, drifting between the states of waking and sleeping. Dimly, I heard a hiss of breath and a light brush against my cheek. As the light petting continued, I left that state and slipped into true oblivion.

* * *

"Sylvia..."

"Sylvia, _dar_ling…"

"Time to wake up," the voices above me cooed.

I cracked open my eyelids and froze. Above me, Verona and Aleera sat on the bed staring down. They each had a soft, mischievous smile on their face. I didn't like seeing them pointed in my direction _at all_.

"How nice it is to see you again," Verona purred. "And so soon!"

Aleera smiled wickedly, flashing fangs. "How is your sister?"

"Wonderful," I replied, wincing at the weakness of my voice. "What do you want?" I asked in a much stronger voice, loud with false bravado.

"Just to see you," Verona commented lightly, standing and walking away from the bed. She looked back at me. "Our newest sister."

Aleera still sat next to me, I noticed with some fear. It was well known that she was childish and sadistic; I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to catch me alone to 'play.'

"Well you've seen me," I said wryly, willfully ignoring the last part about being their sister. I paused as a thought occurred to me, then asked with growing uneasiness, "What is this place?"

Thankfully, Aleera chose to move from the bed at this time; I couldn't sit up quickly enough. "Our master's castle, of course." She peered at me through intensely purple eyes. "You smell of his blood."

I stiffened and turned away from the two vampiress's knowing looks, switching my gaze instead to the view outside the window. Little light actually came in through the foggy air; instead, only a dim, bluish glow fell into the room, leaving more darkened corners and shadows than I was comfortable with.

A hand landed on my shoulder. I reluctantly turned to see Verona bring her face close to mine. She smiled, in an almost friendly way, I thought.

"Soon, you will belong to our Master just as we do. We can forget the past," she allowed. She actually sounded sincere. "Pretend that your life began when you joined our family; when you finally wed our Master, as we have."

I stood abruptly, fists clenched to my sides, and turned to confront them.

"I will not," I hissed, "be that monster's bride. _Ever!_ You can forget about us being sisters, because it will _never_ _happen_. And you can tell him that yourself," I spat.

Infuriatingly, Verona only smiled. However, Aleera hissed from where she was, and a moment later my neck was held in her grip. She slammed me against a wall in less than a second, baring her fangs dangerously.

"You dare call the Master a monster?" she screeched. "He has chosen to give you eternal life. _You_, out of all the other worthless humans in the world!"

"Eternal damnation!" I argued with what little air was left in my lungs. I breathed deeply as Verona tugged her sister's hand from my throat. I blinked, and then they were gone, though Aleera's scream still hung in the air.

"Perhaps you should try antagonizing her less," came the Count's voice.

I looked above to see him walking across the ceiling. My stomach dropped and my already sore head thumped painfully at the unnatural sight. I closed my eyes to rid myself of the nausea, and when I opened them again he stood before me in all his undead glory.

I hated the sight of him.

"Let me go," I tried.

"'Go?'" he quoted mockingly. "Where would you like to go, Sylvia? The castle is yours to explore. You needn't ask my permission to look around your home."

"This isn't my home," I insisted stubbornly. "My home is in Vaseria."

His face betrayed no displeasure at my answer. "You will learn to regard it as such," he said simply. "As you will have Verona and Aleera as sisters; as you will become a vampire and my bride."

"_No_."

At once, his face darkened like a sky full with thunderclouds. "You would dare to refuse me in my own domain?"

"You cannot possibly be deluded enough to believe that I would ever accept the curse of vampirism?" I asked incredulously, yet obvious to show my disdain.

"You have no choice in the matter," he rejoined. "And to that, you're already half way there, my _beloved_ bride-to-be."

I knew my face had turned white at the reference to the horrific experience on the train. Still, I only fell silent for a moment before gathering my wits about me.

"I would rather die than become a leech like you and your brides."

Without a word, he backhanded me. My head flew back and bounced off the stone wall, but I only found myself pressed back against it as Dracula held my throat in his cold, clawed hand. I glared angrily back at his infuriated face.

"While you profess to hate me and my kind," he hissed, "and while I know that your kiss in Budapest was merely a pathetic attempt at buying your sister and Van Helsing some time, my blood runs through your veins, Sylvia, and I _know_ that you have enjoyed being in my presence." He stared me in the eye. "I know that you found yourself breathless after embracing me, even though you continue to deny it; justifying it as a necessary evil to save your beloved sister."

"You're wrong," I whispered hoarsely; ridiculously, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. As much as I did not want to admit it, he was absolutely _correct_. In everything he said, Dracula was right. It sent me reeling, as if he had hit me again, in how well he knew what was going on in my head.

"I am right," he said again firmly. "You know I am." Without knowing exactly what I was doing, I nodded slowly.

Quickly, he released my neck, and a total transformation seemed to come over him. His expression lightened, his posture became less threatening; even his eyes seemed to lose their dangerous glint. He took a step back and held his hand out to me, face beckoning.

"Come to me, Sylvia."

I was torn. And that shouldn't have been how I felt. If I was in my right mind – and, I admitted, still completely on my family's side – I would have been thinking _Absolutely not_. But while one part of me was saying that, another was screaming to go to him. If I did, I would not only be assured physical safety at that moment; I would also get to indulge that small but rapidly growing part of my heart that wanted to know what being loved by Dracula meant. As much as he was capable of loving anyway.

I was confused, admittedly afraid of the Count and my current situation, and in pain from the blows I'd been dealt, both emotional and physical. I could slowly feel the panic building as I stood still, keeping Dracula waiting on my answer, so I quickly made my decision. I fled from the new and unknown path, instead clinging to the familiar road I'd walked along all my life.

Almost imperceptibly, I shook my head.

The pleasant, welcoming look on the Count's face disappeared instantaneously. I was helpless as his fist flashed forward and connected with my jaw, infinitely more painful than the other times he'd hit me. As I was already backed up to the wall, I had nowhere to go. My hands came up in defense instinctively, although logically I knew that they would never help me against a vampire. Dracula took them in a crushing grip, yanking my body forwards and my face to within an inch of his.

"I think you will find, Sylvia, that I am much more _pleasant_ when you cooperate," he spat furiously, the words passing his lips in bare hisses.

Though I was dizzy from the hits to my head and my jaw was pounding, I had made my decision, and I was going to hang on it. I knew that he was giving me a chance to reconsider my answer, but I was going to throw that offer straight back in his face. Drawing on the strength of my family, I shot back with false bravado.

"I think you will find, _Count_, that I _couldn't care less_."

A snarl escaped his lips, but for a single moment, I thought I could detect a sick grin. Then it was gone and he was bending down to my neck, mouth opened wide and fangs flashing.

I had never been awake to be bitten before; I counted myself lucky, because if the two times before had been as painful as this, I don't think I'd have been able to stand up to him as I had, knowing that this was what awaited me.

As soon as Dracula's fangs pierced my neck I let out a scream, jerking once in his vice-like grip as my muscles flew taut. My vision went black for a few terrifying seconds as the pain lanced through my body. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. It burned, stung, throbbed, and ached all at once. It was agonizing, not only where the fangs had punctured, but everywhere. I choked back a second scream, but was unable to stop the tears squeezing out of my eyes as the Count slid his fangs back out of my neck.

He rose to meet my gaze, and I realized, looking into his near-emotionless blue eyes, that this didn't faze him at all.

He really could kill me here without a second thought. Sure, it might ruin his plans for me, but he would work through the temporary complication. After all, there was another Valerious sister ripe for the taking. The thought of Dracula doing this very same thing to Ana turned my stomach over.

I said it without even knowing what I was asking for: "_Please_."

Then the moment was gone, and his dark head had dipped back down to my neck. I knew he didn't need to suck at the blood; the vein he'd pierced would pump it freely into his waiting mouth. I had seen enough ripped throats while hunting werewolves to know this.

Still, he did. Each draw had me seeing spots; they danced across my vision, and no amount of air I gulped in could clear them. The pain was easing now, thrumming outwards from my neck in a dull ache. Eventually even that felt numbed; I knew he had taken a lot of blood when I could barely feel my extremities. As I began to wonder if my tunneling vision meant I was going to pass out, he finally stopped. His tongue lapped at the marks, sending twinges of pain jolting atop the already pulsing ache that was present. Then it was over, and all I had left was an overwhelming sense of light-headedness and emptiness. My hands were cold and numb from where he'd crushed them and cut off the blood flow. My head was pounding in time to my rapid heartbeat. Everything hurt.

Again, my eyes drifted to Dracula's face and I was caught. But he said nothing. Simply dropped my body to the ground, like a little boy with a toy he was bored with, and left. I followed him with my eyes as he went until I couldn't see him anymore, and shut them. When I opened them again, Verona knelt above me.

"Shh," she whispered softly, soothingly. "I will take care of you." She scooped me up with as much ease as if she were carrying an infant, and deposited me in a bed. It might have been the one from earlier, it might have been a different one; I couldn't tell. I kept blacking out at as she carried me; I barely had enough energy to keep my heart beating, let alone stay awake.

In a surprisingly tender manner, Verona pulled the covers over my body and tucked me in. Supporting my head with one hand, she let me drink from a goblet filled with water, even dabbing at the spot where I'd spilled some down my chin. Then, gently, she laid her hand on my head and stroked my hair. I didn't even have a thought to why she might be helping me; her cold hand was welcome against my hot and feverish forehead. Soon, I was being dragged off to the darkness once again. As my awareness faded away, I heard Verona's soft voice drifting above my head.

"Shh, little one; you are going to be alright. Sisters always care for one another. I will help you along the way. Sleep now. Rest." She paused, planting a kiss across my cheek. "Tomorrow is a new night."

* * *

Tomorrow was a new night, but I wasn't awake to see it. Even having been given Dracula's blood, and with it his rapid healing powers, my body still hadn't recovered after a full day of sleep. It wasn't until the third day that I felt ready to face the day; or rather, the night. It was already past sunset when I came into consciousness, but I was thankful at least that the room was empty when I did. Verona was nowhere in sight, nor was Aleera. But I was most glad to find no trace of Dracula.

The stone floor was freezing beneath my feet when I slid out of bed, like stepping into snow barefoot.

A memory surfaced.

My father, ever indulgent to his children, had let Ana, Velkan, and myself go barefoot and ill-clad in a light snowfall once when we were little. My mother had protested, but she was overridden. Of course, my father was more penitent when we three ended up with colds. Our mother hadn't been averse to sending us to him with our runny noses and germy, sticky hands. Afterwards, he wouldn't let us go in the snow unless we were bundled up with layers upon layers of clothing; and of course, shoes.

A smile tugged at my lips to remember those days. While we still worried over the vampire problem, at least our family hadn't been torn apart. We still had our parents. We still had Velkan. My smile faded. Now it was just Ana and I. Or, if I were to be completely honest with myself, it was really just Ana. She was still free. She had a chance. While I...

I looked around the room with dull eyes. Aside from the bed, there was very little furniture in the room. A chair, a wardrobe, a mirror. Centuries old, the drapes and tapestries were still very fine and in good condition, aside from the dust. With an idle curiosity, I opened the wardrobe, expecting to find nothing except for maybe some spiders. Surprisingly, it was occupied.

Hanging from the rack were dresses, which looked to be from every century up until now. Dresses that may have been fashionable three hundred years ago, a few that looked nearly up to today's style. Most of them, I noticed, were revealing. Though the skirts were full, the necks came down too low for propriety, and the sleeves were short, showing off nearly the entire arm. Not unlike the dresses Dracula's two remaining brides wore.

Shutting the wardrobe, I couldn't help but wonder about Verona. Aleera was hostile as I'd expected, but Verona…

She had been kind. _Motherly_, even.

The black-haired vampiress did not seem the type to nurse me in a time where I was in pain; dying, actually. I had thought she'd be more likely, than anything, to help me along that path to death. After all, we Valerious were the only ones actively hunting the vampires at this point. All others had been killed off, and though townspeople around and throughout Romania knew of the Count, none had the resources or courage necessary to attack him effectively. To get rid of one more of the Valerious would probably be advantageous to them. So why hadn't she killed me?

True, Dracula had admitted his true motive was to turn me into one of his undead brides – a thought that still gave me a sick feeling in my stomach – but hadn't he essentially washed his hands of me when he bit me and abandoned me? Perhaps I was reading the situation wrongly. I didn't pretend to understand Dracula in the slightest, so the possibility of my being mistaken was entirely probable. But if he hadn't, what had he meant by nearly killing me those few nights ago?

Standing in the center of the room, so lost in thought, I didn't realize someone had entered the room. I jumped as Aleera's sultry voice broke into my thoughts.

"Princess," she called mockingly. A devious smirk graced her lips as she looked at me, standing alone, helpless, and confused in the middle of the room. "Won't you come out and play?"

I dreaded to find out what her definition of 'play' was.

Sensing my hesitation she laughed, an unearthly, tinkling laugh, which echoed throughout the air.

"Fear not," she whispered, appearing suddenly behind me, her laughter still echoing. "Verona wants to play, too." I tensed when she leaned her chin on my shoulder.

"What do you want to play?" I asked finally. Without giving me an answer, she grabbed my hand, pulling me reluctantly out of the room and down the hall to another. Pushing me through a doorway into another larger room, I spotted Verona seated comfortably on a large bed, on top of which were several dresses laid out.

Verona smiled at me as Aleera rushed me over to the bed and laid a critical eye to the dresses, and in turn, me.

"Aleera and I thought you might want some new clothing," Verona stated serenely. I noticed, as she pointed it out, that I felt dirty and disgusting in my clothes, bloodstained and stale with sweat.

"Thanks," I managed to mumble.

"We prepared a bath for you," she continued invitingly. "The water is still warm." My eyes followed hers to a large wooden tub I hadn't noticed, filled with steaming hot water.

"I appreciate your efforts," I said this time, wary and slightly confused. What they might gain from doing any of this, I didn't know, but the situation seemed innocent enough.

"Well," said Aleera impatiently, hands on her hips, "get undressed and get in before it gets cold."

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but Verona spoke first. "We'll be staying. You're still so weak," she purred. "The steam could lull you into a stupor. You could drown."

Defeated – what else could I possibly do? – I began to strip myself of my soiled clothing. The dress and corset I had slipped on in a gentler Dracula's presence, a time that seemed so long ago, slid to the floor in a pile, and I quickly stepped out of the chill air into the bath.

The warm water was heaven against my tired and sore body, relaxing taut muscles that I hadn't realized I'd been tensing. For a moment, all I could do was close my eyes in bliss and futilely wish I could be this happy and rested for the rest of my life. Of course, I knew I would have to face the realities of my situation before long, but for just a few minutes I could pretend.

All too soon, I was ripped from my fantasy. A warm hand touched my cheek, and I started, my eyes flying open to meet Verona's unnaturally blue gaze.

"Shh," she soothed in a silken voice. "There is nothing to worry about here, nothing to threaten you. Relax and let us make you feel good, Sylvia. _Relax_."

Insanely, stupidly, ridiculously, my body heeded her command. She smiled softly down at me, showing no teeth, before she moved around to caress my hair. Ever so gently, she proceeded to wet my hair and massage a sweet-smelling oil into it, before running a comb through my tresses without snagging a single knot. Against any better judgment I may have had, my eyes shut slowly as Verona continued her ministrations.

Unbelievably, this vampire – this _woman_ – was making me feel better than I had in an unimaginable amount of time. A small voice in the back of head challenged me to remember that she had, for so long, been my family's enemy; she'd caused endless suffering for so many people, and ended the lives of so many others, and I was letting her wash and brush my hair like she was kin? Still, the voice was small, muted; easily overrun by my other emotions, needs, wants, hopes, and desperation.

"There," she whispered in my ear. "Don't you feel much better now your hair is clean?"

Sleepily, I nodded and made to stand.

"Wait," Aleera breathed, speaking now. She pushed me back down into the tub, a little more roughly than she probably should have. The blanket of calm enjoyment Verona had woven over me was rapidly diminishing. I didn't think I could ever look at Aleera and feel safe.

As if Verona could hear my thoughts, she sent a glare at her. Aleera, for a moment, looked abashed, before she shrugged and began removing her scant dress. Faster than a human could ever hope to move, she discarded them and appeared in the tub next to me, kneeling. I could see she had a soft blush of red on her cheeks, looking more rosy and pleased than normal. Sickened, I realized that she and Verona must have fed recently. It would explain the warmth of Verona's skin, which was highly unusual for an undead creature such as a vampire.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked, in a rather squeaky voice. I struggled not to look anywhere but her face as Aleera smiled cheekily.

"Washing you, of course," she replied. Her hands reached down below the water and came into contact with my leg. In a swift movement, she lifted it from the water and began rubbing a soapy cloth along it, erasing any grime the water could not.

I shivered, not knowing if it was the cold air or the vampire sitting naked in a tub next to me, or a combination of the two. I didn't know how to react to such a situation; it was easily the most confusing and frustrating thing that had ever happened to me yet.

As Aleera moved to my other leg, Verona's hand appeared on my shoulder, washcloth in hand. Without a word, she smoothed it along my shoulders and arms, always dipping it back into the tub for warm water before it could get cold.

I was hyper-aware of every touch, every movement either vampiress made. When Aleera's cloth brushed gently across my stomach, I nearly jumped out of the tub. Without a word, she simply gestured for me to turn around so she could get my back. Warily, I did, but she only did what she said she'd do. When they'd done, I felt like I'd never really been clean before the two had catered to me. I was refreshed, relaxed, and more than ready to simply fall into a bed and sleep, small voice be damned.

When I stood from the bath, Verona handed me a sheet to wrap myself in against the cold air. Aleera, I noticed, found one for herself and dried quickly, obviously not minding the cold.

"Let's get you dressed," said Verona now, briskly. I nodded, wrapped tightly in my sheet but still shivering. Clothing sounded like a good idea. I wasn't about to refuse any, even if it was my captors who provided it.

The dresses that were laid out on the bed were, thankfully, more substantial than the dresses that both she and her sister wore. Full sleeves, modest necklines, and floor length, there were a few to choose from. I quickly chose a plain black dress with a high neckline that came to below my chin, lined with a delicate lace. I was surprised, given that I was living with a bunch of bloodsuckers, that this neck-hiding choice should even be included among my wardrobe. However, I was not complaining. Quickly, as there seemed to be no undergarments available to me, I dropped the sheet and dressed. Aleera, already clothed again, hummed lightly.

"It fits you well," she commented.

"Yes," I agreed reluctantly. It was rather form fitting, despite the modesty of the sleeves, length, and neckline.

Lightly, Verona laid a hand on my arm. "Would you like to return to your room now?"

Now that I was out of the bath, dressed, and feeling slightly returned to my normal state, my feelings had become a snarled, contradictory mess in my head. I didn't quite know what to do with myself, how to act around Aleera or Verona, or what my outlook towards them was. Did I or did I not trust them, and which stance was the smartest to take? Did I even know which would be smartest, based on my goals, which seemed to be rather confused and shuffled and skewed at the moment?

I nodded. "I would."

Without a word, Verona walked out into the hall and I fell into step behind her. Obviously, she had been ordered to keep an eye on my actions. The thought made my already darkening thoughts turn a bit more negatively towards her. The bath had been like a magical potion that befuddled and confused me; now that I was out, the reality of my situation hit me once again, and I was not feeling kindly towards my captors.

Once I was in my room, I gave her a stiff "Thank you" before shutting the door behind her as she left. Immediately, I walked to the bed and fell to it with a _flump_, my hands folded behind my head, elbows pointed out.

Immediately, the floodgates opened, and a torrent of thoughts poured out from behind some barrier into my head. Like angry bees, they buzzed around violently, all clamoring for answers and explanations. But above all, one demanded immediate elucidation – what in God's name had just happened?

Had I actually just been bathed and clothed by two of my family's worst enemies? Had their attitudes really changed so much towards me, as their considerate actions and kind words suggested? Even the crass and violent Aleera had put forth her best effort at welcoming me.

Assuming their manner was not genuine, why? The obvious yet complicated answer would be 'Dracula.' If it was the count's influence, ordering them to show me kindness, I had to ask myself, why? The only way this could be true was if I had in fact been wrong in my previous assumption. If he was not as indifferent about my life or death as I had thought, and he actually wanted me to live, it would make sense if he ordered Aleera and Verona to do what they had done. He wanted me alive, this much was now obvious. He still had plans for me. But what role exactly did his two remaining brides play in this scheme?

After a bit of thought, I had it.

He was using them as a bridging mechanism; a way to force my loyalties to lie with the vampires, or at least split conflictingly between them and humankind. If Verona and Aleera were able to befriend me, I would begin to sympathize with them, effectively confusing my relationship with the human world even further. After all, I thought, trying to remain entirely objective, I was only half human now. If this switch in loyalties were to happen, I might start sympathizing with Dracula himself. From that point, I reasoned, anything could happen. Just what "anything" might be, I didn't want to think about just yet.

I sighed and turned over to lie on my stomach, chin now propped on my hands.

This was wonderful that I'd figured most everything out, but I had to do something about it all. I needed a plan of action, something I could do in order to combat the Count's designs. After a moment, it came to me.

I would simply have to harden my heart against them. Every time I saw Verona, Aleera, or Dracula, I needed to force myself to remember every punctured throat on every blood-drained body I'd ever seen; relive the pain of the loss of family members and friends; anything and everything I could do to keep hating them. Already they had managed to widen the small crack in my resolve. I would avoid them, ignore them, enrage them, all in the hope that one of them might snap and do something to hurt me. It seemed counter productive, but it looked like the only path to take. In order to win this fight in enemy territory, I needed them to show me their hate, their horror, their monstrosity. I needed them to wound me in order to save me.

This was a battle I could not afford to lose.


	9. IX

I spent the rest of the night alternately lying on the bed and pacing about the room, but always thinking, always planning. Inevitably I grew tired and slept around sunrise. Whether a coincidence or some sort of side effect from essentially being a half-vampire, I didn't know. Either way, there wasn't much to be done about it.

So I slept, and when I woke later, feeling more exhausted and groggy than rested, it was close to sundown. Seeing the last of the reds, yellows, and oranges fade behind the Carpathians, I felt a little more confident. Then the last vestiges of sunlight faded, and the moon, already high in the sky, let it be known to all that the dark, unsavory creatures of the night were in charge now. As if to answer my very thoughts, a knock sounded on the heavy wooden door to my room, and Verona walked in.

She looked exactly as she had yesterday, which is to say, deceptively innocent. Aside from the whorish clothing she wore and her unnatural blue eyes, she might have been a nun; but I wouldn't let them trick me as they had yesterday, however fleeting it has been. I had figured out their game, and I wouldn't be played like a fool while I had any say in it. Verona and Aleera could try all they might, but they wouldn't be able to get a step closer to my now hardened heart.

"Good morrow, Princess," she greeted. In the pause, in which she waited for a reply, I said nothing and only stared, waiting. What would she try today to win my affection?

Ignoring my brush off, she continued. "Aleera and I wished to know if you would join us today for a walk through the castle. After all, there's much more to your new home than just this hallway and these two rooms."

"Thank you," I said, injecting as much coldness into my voice as I could, "but I would rather stay in here."

"Oh?" she asked, as if my words were not to be believed. "Then Aleera and I shall simply have to stay here with you. You shouldn't be alone."

"Actually, I would prefer it," I replied. My eyes never left hers, challenging, even though I wished to look away.

Verona's mouth twitched upwards in a wry smile for a moment; or perhaps it was my imagination. Nevertheless, she gave me a small nod and turned to leave the room. As the door shut behind her, I heard, "Whatever the princess demands." Then it closed with a small _click_, and I was by myself, just as I had requested.

For a moment, I simply sat staring at the closed door, surprised. It had been easier than I thought, getting them to leave me alone. I couldn't tell whether it was simply because they knew forcing me would do no good, or if they thought they might gain my good side by letting me do as I wished. Another thought surfaced, but I disregarded it immediately. Surely Ana, Van Helsing, and Carl would come find me before I could stand the solitude no longer? With the two men now on our side, one an expert monster killer, and the other a near-genius friar, _surely_ they would find the way to the Count's castle before then.

With that hope in mind, I settled myself down to simply waiting out the time before they would come for me. I took the chair settled by one of the walls and moved it so that I might gaze out the window. The Carpathian Mountains were snow capped, like always, but I knew that soon the entirety of the range would be covered in a pristine whiteness. Already, the dark skies were filled with clouds, which might be ready to release their precious cargo onto the waiting world at any moment. The cold, which radiated out from the glass panes, didn't seem to bother me as it might normally; but I wouldn't let it trouble me. Soon enough they would come, and I'd be free from this place and the Count. Until then, I would wait.

* * *

As had happened the night before, I grew tired with the sun's rising, and slept. When I awoke later that afternoon, I watched the sun set, and began my lonely vigil again. Surprisingly, neither Verona nor Aleera appeared asking for me. Perhaps I had overanalyzed what Dracula's plans were, and the brides were simply longing for another to complete their recently ruined trio. Maybe they had given up of their own accord.

Whatever the reason, that night passed peacefully, as did the next, and the next after that. I heard nothing but my own breathing, except for howls on the night of the full moon, and the wind racing around the castle walls. Once I thought I heard the cackles of the brides and their master, probably as they left to hunt.

But as the days passed and turned into weeks, and the weeks passed and turned into a month, and then two, I became truly desperate.

At first, it had been easy to explain away the length of time I had waited. Our family had been searching for years upon years for Dracula's lair; surely it could take a few weeks for my three friends to discover the location.

Even a few days past a full month of captivity, I could keep hoping. Perhaps the castle was far from Vaseria. It would take time for horses, no matter how fast, to travel many miles. But as the end of my second month in the Count's castle neared, my excuses fell thin. Ana wouldn't have made me wait as long as two months in Dracula's clutches if she knew how to find me. She simply wouldn't. She would have rushed to come for me as soon as she knew a way how, despite anything Van Helsing might say to her. It was then I began to think that perhaps, just perhaps... no one would ever find me.

Still, I held onto the hope that after three full months, by early February at least, she would have come for me.

But she didn't.

Ridiculously, though I knew it couldn't have been her fault, I was angry with her. Angry for not coming, for letting me as good as rot in this godforsaken castle, and most absurdly, for letting me miss the winter celebrations and Christmas. And if being in Dracula's hold for so long was not enough, it became impossible to ignore the increasingly apparent changes his blood had wrought in me.

Though at this point I was awake only after the sun fell, I could see almost as well as if it were daytime. I was faster, more sure on my feet, and relieved of all the jerky, fidgeting movements I'd made as a full human. I was sure I could hear the rats and their heartbeats outside in the hall, and the wind was more like a dull roar that I eventually grew accustomed to. While these new changes to my body were disconcerting, even more so were the changes in my appearance.

It seemed that wherever I went in the room, I could see myself in that cursed mirror on the wall. Cursed, because every time I looked, I could no longer see the woman I had been, but the half vampire abomination that I had become. My skin had become even whiter than it had been, seemingly bleached of all its color to become a nearly luminescent whiteness. Whether it was because of the contrast or they simply grew redder, my lips were like a bloodied gash in my face, lurid against my colorless skin. My brown hair, always a long, curly mass that I struggled with, grew tame. The curls smoothed and became perfected, the color deepening, yet taking on an unnatural sheen. And my eyes, which Ana had noticed at the Hallow's Eve ball, were green, a most startlingly vivid color, comprised of shades no human could ever hope to have.

But I didn't quite notice these things straight away. No, the first oddity I noticed was the complete lack of basic human needs. I did not hunger, grow chill or hot, nor did I ever feel the need to empty my bowels. I was static, unchanging in my needs, save for the powerful thirst which was always there, though sometimes dulled. This, of all things, worried me most, though in a way I knew I was safe. No one truly knew how vampires were made, but I felt now as if I needed to commit the act of a vampire – drinking the blood of another human – to truly become one. So long as there were no humans to tempt me, and it seemed highly unlikely there would ever be, I wouldn't become a full vampire, please God.

But with the realization that no one had come for me in three months came a resolution. Though it would be harder than if I had help from Ana, Van Helsing, and Carl, I had to escape from the castle. This, of course, would mean getting to know my surroundings and lulling my captors into a complacent state, wherein they believed I would not willingly leave this place. It would be difficult; it was probably impossible, but I had to attempt it. It was clear that I was on my own after three months with no sign of anyone. If I was ever going to get away from the monsters, I needed to act.

Early in the evening on February third, I quietly left my room in search of the brides. Befriending them was the first obstacle, I told myself. It was only logical. Secretly though, I knew I simply did not want to see the Count again just yet. True, it had been three months; but our last encounter was still fresh in my mind, and I couldn't force myself to face him just yet.

I walked down the hall until I picked up the vague smell of what can only be described as _vampire_. Slight hint of old blood, the sharp sting of frigid air, yet something alluring that called to me. It led me to the room where Aleera had brought me all those weeks ago, and when I entered I was slightly surprised to see Verona there alone.

As if I hadn't been holed up in the room down the hall without contact for the past three months, she smiled at me gently – and dare I say – genuinely.

"Sylvia," she greeted calmly. "It's good to see you."

I attempted a small smile in return. "And you, Verona."

The dark haired vampiress waved a hand over the largely unoccupied space of the bed she was lounging on. "Would you care to join me?" she asked lightly.

Rather than answer verbally and allow my voice an opportunity to waver or betray itself, I simply made my way to the bed and sat. I settled myself towards the head of the bed, while Verona kept her distance toward the foot. She looked rather comfortable, spread out lying on her side, using her propped up arm for a cushion. I stayed sitting upright, my legs still hanging over the edge of the bed in case I needed to leave hastily. Not that I was any match in speed for a full vampire, but it was the illusion that counted.

"So," Verona began, "what do you think about that man – Thomas Stevens, I think his name was – and his circumnavigation of the world?"

"You mean the man who traveled across America, Europe, and Asia on his bicycle?" I answered immediately, surprising myself. Sure, I was meant to be befriending her, but was I already falling into the role of pseudo-friend so quickly? And so easily?

"Yes, him," Verona continued smoothly. "It must have been quite the adventure, don't you agree?"

"I suppose that's true," I conceded, "but rather pointless."

"How so?" she asked.

"Well, it took him over two years to get the thing done," I said, "and he didn't actually accomplish anything worthwhile. His name was printed in a magazine and numerous newspapers, of course, but what sort of contribution to society is that? His time would have been better spent furthering his career and creating a family."

"Mmm," Verona hummed. "I am inclined to agree with you, Sylvia. As interesting as his travels and story were, I am sure within that time he could have done something much more worthwhile. Not to mention," she continued, "the world events and news he must have missed while always on the move."

I nodded, focused on our conversation. Slowly, unconsciously, I had moved further onto the bed, so that my legs were folded more or less underneath me, and I leaned comfortably into the copious pillows nearby. "That's another issue I would take with a journey such as that. For instance," I told her, "I couldn't bear to be behind on news about Romania. What if a war began while he was away that affected his country? His loved ones might have been killed without his ever knowing."

"Of course," she agreed. "A lot can happen in two years."

As her words registered in my mind, I ignored the flash of pain as I thought of all the changes that had happened in my life over the past two years. Instead, I forged on, attempting to move the conversation to safer ground. "Speaking of which, did you hear that Wilhelm the First recently died?"

We two continued on uninterrupted for several hours, speaking mostly of eastern European politics, until I realized that I had actually spent most of the night with her. Not wanting to seem like I had made too unbelievable a personality change, upon realization of this I abruptly took my leave of Verona, returning to the room I'd been ensconced in.

After reassuring myself that everything I had just done would seem natural in the course of things, I spent a restless day sleeping. The next evening, I woke up with a peculiar feeling, one that took me a moment to recognize; I actually missed Verona's company. God forgive me, but I did. Sensibly, I knew that it was only natural for a social creature, after having gone so long without contact, to reach out for it no matter who was offering. It was just my luck that the only ones to reach out to were vampires. Since it fell in line with my plan nicely, I indulged in the feeling, leaving my room once again to seek out Verona.

I knew before I reached the room we'd talked in last night that she wasn't there. I couldn't smell her. So I kept walking down the hall, finally coming to a staircase, which I went down to reach the second floor. Not even realizing I was doing it, I followed the scent of Verona until I came into a sort of lounge. Surrounded by old tapestries, a few decrepit chests, and a globe, Verona and Aleera sat motionless on a large couch, looking up only when my heels tapped loudly on the stone.

"Hello, my dear," Verona greeted me. "Would you care to join us?"

"Yes," Aleera agreed, "come sit with us. I do so long for a change."

"Alright," I allowed cautiously, walking forward onto a thick, dusty carpet to lounge on the couch with them. I had no choice but to settle myself next to Aleera, as Verona was all but at the edge of her side of the sofa. As soon as I sat, the red haired vampiress tangled her fingers in my hair.

"Would you let me braid your hair?" she asked in a little girl voice. "It's so lovely," she sighed.

I tensed for a moment, but forced my muscles to relax. "Of course," I acquiesced.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. In a split second, her hands were untangled from my hair as she bent over a little table across the room, and then she was back again, this time sliding a brush through my curls.

If I closed my eyes, it felt like one of the hundreds of times Ana and I had done this for each other. I missed her so much.

"She's doing well," Verona said quietly. Before I could even ask, she continued almost apologetically, "You said her name aloud."

"Oh." Behind me, Aleera hummed softly as she brushed.

"A long time ago," Verona said, "I used to have a sister. Actually, I had several sisters and brothers alike, but they never lived long. All of them – I believe there were seven in all – died before they reached adulthood. I was the only one to make it, but that was understandable. We knew even less than people do now about diseases and such things," she explained.

"I was the youngest," Aleera spoke suddenly. She had now moved on to sectioning off chunks of my hair to braid. "The youngest of six, and the only girl. When my eldest brother was turning twenty, I was only five. I was the only child of my father's second wife, and she died a few years after my birth."

I thought it would be more than a little awkward to say something stupid like, "I'm sorry," so I only made a slight noncommittal noise to show I was still listening.

"I often thought," Verona spoke again, "years after I had already become the Master's wife and he had added Marishka and Aleera to our family, that it might have been somewhat similar to if my sisters had lived to grow older." From the corner of my eye I could see her smile softly. "After all, is this not what you and Ana share?"

"In a way, yes." I thought about our relationship, but there was no way to truly and accurately describe what it entailed. Still, I tried. "Ana and I love each other. We may look the same, but Ana is fiercer than I. She's loud, brave, and not afraid of much," I explained. "While I, on the other hand, am more soft spoken and more of a follower than a leader. But even with our differences, we love each other."

"Surely you have fights though?" Aleera asked curiously.

"Of course," I said. "We don't always get along, but we can't keep away from each other. Whenever we fought, it was a generally known rule by all that we could only stand to ignore each other for a day at most, and then we would have to share something with the other." I grinned at the many memories of our silly arguments and the quick reunions and unspoken apologies. Almost discovering the thought as I said it, I realized, "Ana is like the other half of my soul. I'm incomplete without her."

A minute later, startling me out of my reverie, Aleera announced, "There. All done." She handed me a hand mirror to hold in front of my face to see what she had done.

It was simple, but elegant. Two braids led away from a center part to drape gently to the back of my head, held there with the top layer of my hair to create a half-up hair style, while leaving the rest of the curly mass to lay down my back.

"Thank you," I murmured. "It's very nice."

Aleera laughed her tinkling laugh from behind me, and I realized that I could actually see her in the mirror. She was there, but slightly faded. I could just make out the back of the couch behind her.

"Why-"

"Why can you see me?" Aleera asked, laughing again. "It's because I am young."

"Yes," Verona joined in now. I watched as she slid over to us on the couch, setting her face next to mine. I looked at the mirror once more to find that Verona was nearly completely see-through; in fact, I could see Aleera's diminished reflection through her.

"You see," she continued, "the older a vampire gets, the less he can be seen in reflective surfaces. Aleera, being still less than four decades old, can still be seen relatively well in mirrors."

"And Verona," Aleera teased, "can barely be seen because she's so old!"

I smiled slightly with the vampiresses, inwardly adding, _Which is why Dracula's reflection is even more faded; only a faint reminder of his centuries-dead humanity. _

"Now," Verona asked, brandishing a rather battered old book, "how would you feel about reading Shakespeare's _Henry IV_?"

That night, and the next several nights after that, Verona, Aleera, and I spent our time reading aloud Shakespeare's historical plays about Henry's IV, V, VI, and VIII. Sometimes I would find them in that room on the third floor of the castle, and other times they would be in the lounge on the second floor, but always it was I who sought them out.

One night I experimented with this, intentionally spending the night in my room. The two never appeared at my door, which I found disturbingly disappointing. The next night, neither of them even mentioned it; we simply started off where we'd last left off.

It had become increasingly obvious to me that everything seemed wrong, but in a good way. I was confused, my brain obviously muddled from the months of isolation. I could only remember ever being treated badly, or with some measure of malicious teasing, by the two vampire brides. But these new personalities I was privy to seemed almost human; Verona and Aleera were friendly, interesting, women whom I could get along with easily. As the days passed, I found myself increasingly unable to separate the past from the present. _Had they not always been this way?_ I would ask myself, _For I feel as if I've never known them to be anything else_.

We finished all of Shakespeare's historical works within ten days, and spent an eleventh night together reading _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. In the course of reading the play aloud to my two companions, I didn't realize the time had gone by so quickly. Before I even knew I had done so, the book fell to my stomach and my eyes closed as I fell asleep.

Some time later I became aware of my situation. Hazily, as if still dreaming, I gained the impression of red curls on my left side, accompanied by an arm wrapped around my waist. On my right, Verona's straight black hair tickled my cheek as her head lay intimately next to mine on a pillow. I felt peaceful - at home - in their embrace; confusingly, I was simultaneously feeling, _How could I possibly feel this way?_ and, _Why did I not realize what nice women they were before now?_ I couldn't deny the serenity I felt, but as my half-closed eyes were drawn to the doorway, the blood nearly froze in my veins.

Just on the threshold to the room, as if entering would shatter the scene before him, stood the Count. For a moment his face was blank, and then a look of cold fury swept across his visage as he watched us. Immediately, as if he had spoken to them, Verona and Aleera woke and removed themselves from the bed and the room altogether with an unnatural speed. I shivered at the loss of them, and when I blinked to shake the sleep from my eyes, he had gone. I was alone.

Though I tried, I could not fall asleep again until I was in what I was steadily referring to as my bed. Before my eyes slipped shut to sleep for the day, I thought I could hear cries.

* * *

Over the next week as I spent time with the two brides, as we read poetry, plays, and novels to each other, I was building up my resolve to face Dracula.

The incident from a few nights prior convinced me that I couldn't put it off any longer. After all, whose castle did I find myself living in? I was bound to see him sooner or later, and to be honest, after I thought about it, I was surprised to not have seen him earlier. After all, I had been spending nearly all my waking moments with his two remaining brides. I'm sure that under normal circumstances, they must have spent most of their time together. He must have been getting angry at them for spending all their time with me, and yet, other than that one incident, there was no evidence of this. But I knew I would rather face him on my own terms than on his.

The second to last week of February, I was glad that I had decided to mentally prepare myself. The brides and I were, as we had come to usually be, happily installed in the lounge on the second floor, draped in various positions over the furniture. My head was in Verona's lap as she ran her fingers through my hair, and Aleera had taken to sitting on the plush rug, variously petting or stroking Verona and I. It had taken awhile for me to grow used to her constant need for physical touching, but I was fairly comfortable with it now. As for myself, I held a collection of poems above my face and read to them from 'The Land of Dreams.'

"- I also by pleasant streams Have wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams But tho' calm and warm the waters wide, I could not get to the other side. 'Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?'-"

"'This Land of Dreams is better far Above the light of the morning star.'"

I hastily sat up from my prone position, watching as the Count stepped into the room.

He looked as he always did; handsome, pale, enshrined in darkness. His thin mouth was slightly quirked upwards at one corner, almost mocking me. Verona and Aleera both stood at his appearance, but I stayed seated, watching him warily.

"You know Blake?" I asked innocuously.

"His poems about corrupted innocence touch my heart," he challenged in a smoothly dark voice, a hand coming up to point lightly at his chest.

"Of course," I conceded. "I should have known his black poems would go well with your black heart."

"But of course," he repeated. He beckoned to Aleera, who immediately flew to him. With one last piercing look in my direction, they both took their leave, disappearing from view to some other place.

I trembled as I rose from the couch, dropping the book unnoticed to the floor. Ignoring Verona, I started pacing the room restlessly.

That had gone well. It was actually good that we had exchanged barbs, wasn't it? I couldn't imagine Dracula would think my demeanor genuine if I had completely changed my attitude towards him. No, he wouldn't have, I was certain.

Abruptly, I turned back to the couch, sat down and picked the book of poems up off the floor, and resumed reading.

I could almost feel Verona hesitating to speak as she sat on the opposite end of the couch. Finally, she said only, "He is really not so bad, Sylvia."

Navigating through the tangled web of my thoughts and feelings, I found the root of my animosity. "You joined him willingly, did you not?" I asked venomously, watching her. "He never fed from you when you were unwilling, did he? Didn't kill everyone you ever cared about?"

Verona merely stared at me with her blue eyes before commenting, "He is indeed at fault for those transgressions you just mentioned. However, you are also to blame for angering him, and you know as well as anyone that your family history cannot be helped; no one chooses what role they are born to. He is trying to make things right with you, if you would only see this."

"Make things right?" I questioned disbelievingly. "If this is true, he mustn't be trying very hard." I took a calming breath. It wasn't her fault, after all. I said quietly, "I am here in this castle against my will, constantly in danger – that much has been made very clear to me. Surely you can understand my hesitation in being near him? Acting in a civil manner towards him? He has never shown me a kindness or courtesy in all the time I've been alive. Tell me, Verona, how I am meant to act in a nicer way to a creature who doesn't return the favor?"

"Perhaps," she told me, "if you would be the one to first show genuine civility, he would soon follow in kind."

Childishly, I ignored her, turning back to the book of poems she had procured from some place and lent to me. I pretended to read until she left, walking at a normal pace out of the room, likely for my benefit. When I was sure she was gone, I stopped, closing my eyes and leaning back on the couch.

Dare I take her advice? It might not hurt. It would probably only help my situation, assuming Dracula told her to say such things to me, or if she later told Dracula she spoke to me. If Dracula came to believe I was warming to him, acting on Verona's advice rather than a radical personality change, he might trust me more, enabling me to escape. It had become obvious that I was constantly monitored. Should I stray too close to any exit, such as down in the main foyer, Verona or Aleera would appear to lead me somewhere where they "must show me something." If it appeared like I was becoming loyal to their precious master, perhaps he would call the watchdogs off?

Except, I was realizing rapidly, that I was beginning to think of Verona and Aleera as more than just pawns in Dracula's schemes. I didn't quite know when it had happened, or if my feelings were genuine – everything was so strange and alien and puzzling – but I regarded them as more than just obstacles to overcome. I knew they loved Dracula, for whatever reason. But he, I told myself, I still hated and loathed with all of my being. I knew I still had to escape him, and so Verona's idea was worth trying. The only problem now was figuring out how.

The next day, I was dismayed to find no trace of Verona or Aleera. They were in neither of the rooms we three frequented, and I even checked the rest of the rooms on the third floor. The doors leading to what I assumed to be the towers were locked, as were several other rooms on the second floor. I was about to venture down to the first floor, a place where I was usually intercepted in some fashion, when his voice sounded behind me.

"They have gone to feed."

I whirled about to face him, my heeled slippers scraping against the stone floor. He stood in the very middle of the hall, hands held behind his back, looking every inch the imperious master of the castle. I only stared at him for a moment, trying to ignore the multitude of sensations flowing through my body, before coming forwards slowly to pass him. The staircase to the third flood was at the opposite end of the hall, and it looked like I would be spending my day there in my room without the brides to keep me company. I needed to pass him, and while it seemed a daunting task... I told myself I could do it.

Just as I was about to slide past, his body appeared in front of me. He grasped my wrists lightly when I bumped into him, thumbs gently caressing the underside of my arm. I shivered at his touch, staring resolutely over his black-clad shoulder.

"Please release me," I asked in an even tone.

"Sylvia," he commanded, "look at me."

I hesitated for a moment, but did as he demanded. I couldn't help my eyes roving over his fine features, taking in the smooth, pale skin, the striking blue eyes, the enticing lips, and the silky hair. A smug look came over his face as he realized what I was doing, but he said nothing about it. Instead-

"Would you care to see the library?"

"Only if I can read what it holds," I replied slowly.

"Of course," he consented. At once, he released me, instead hooking my arm in his in a mockery of courtly protocol, and we began the short walk down the hall. We stopped at one of the locked rooms I'd passed earlier, and he waved a hand over the door handle. The sound of churning lock mechanisms could be heard, and then it opened to reveal one of the most beautiful places I'd ever seen.

Walls upon walls of books, scrolls, maps, and magazines met my delighted eyes. Only after noting these things, did I see the desk, chairs, and divan. Unconsciously, I left the Count's side and stepped into the room, my enhanced eyes picking out titles and authors ten feet away from the books themselves. There were books in Latin, French, Romanian, English, and German; works by Socrates, Thoreau, and Shakespeare. All of the classics, all of the modern works, and several obscure, dated books, too. It was like a dream come true to be greeted with such a wealth of entertainment and knowledge, especially after such boredom.

"I take it you enjoy what you see?" he asked dryly. Already, I had pulled out Shakespeare's _Othello_, fully intending to begin reading straight away. Startled from my reverie, I looked up to meet the Count's intent blue gaze.

"Yes, immensely," I replied, adding hesitantly, "I appreciate this."

"And what would 'this' be, Sylvia?" he inquired, coming to stand before me again. His hand appeared in my vision as he brushed a stray hair from my face, fingers like cool fire as his skin touched mine.

Breathlessly, I replied, "This library. These books." I took a step back from him with the pretense of gesturing to the bookshelves, tearing my eyes from his. "They're amazing."

"Centuries of living has allowed me to expand the collection past that of any mortal man," he explained, eyes still trained on me. "You are admiring the fruits of my immoral immortal life. Does that bother you, Sylvia?"

I met his eyes as I allowed myself a truth; "Not as much as it should."

He smirked disarmingly. "Then read to your heart's content, if that is what you so desire."

I could feel his eyes on me as I looked back down to the book in my hands. When I looked back up, he was gone.


	10. X

I spent the night in the library, and the next few nights after that as well. The brides didn't often come to see me, dismayed that all I ever did was read.

"Too boring," Aleera had said.

And it wasn't for another few days that I saw the Count again, though I often felt like in the days preceding our next meeting I was being watched.

I was reading the first volume of Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_ when he simply appeared before me as I sat on the couch.

"Give me the book," he commanded. Reluctantly, I held it out to him, opened still to the beginning of the fourth chapter. He took it in one hand and flipped it around so it was right side up, and sat on a chair opposite the couch I was sitting in. After a quick scan of the page, he began reading where I left off.

I was amazed. More than just that, I was stunned, confused, suspicious – there were too many emotions to identify them all. Here was the most notorious nightmare creature of Eastern Europe, a man who had killed thousands upon thousands of people, reading a woman's novel aloud in a castle library, acting for all the world like we were the picture of fading aristocratic domesticity.

And as I listened to him voicing the parts of Elizabeth and Jane as they extolled the virtues of Mr. Bingley, I was struck with the ridiculousness of it all. Hearing the master of all the vampires reading such sentences as, "I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time" and "I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbor in her" was very nearly surreal.

But his voice was soothing enough, and any lesser man's voice would have had me laughing aloud as he exclaimed, in character, "Dear Lizzy!" Before I knew it, several hours had passed, and not once besides the first time did I dwell on the fact that I was sitting and spending time with the Count. When he stopped at the end of chapter seventeen, right before the Netherfield Ball, I almost protested, but at the last minute I remembered who it was I was actually with.

Sliding a marker between the pages where he had stopped, Dracula looked up at me with a cool gaze.

"Tomorrow?"

Noticing that he'd already slid the slim volume into an inner pocket of his jacket, I realized I didn't really have a choice if I wanted to know what happened next.

_Do you really?_

I met his gaze and nodded.

"Good," he said. He left without another word, gesture, or look to me, leaving me alone in the library just as he'd found me.

When he left, I found myself oddly tired. As I made my way back to my room, I noticed with some surprise that the night was becoming lighter. It was already dawn, and time to sleep to await a new day. I fell into my bed, pulling the comforters around me, though I didn't really need them since I felt the elements less and less. I watched the sun rise, instinctually knowing that the vampires inhabiting the castle with me were surely asleep. It only took me a moment to rise from the bed again, pull on a dressing gown over my unclothed body, slide on my slippers, and walk out the door.

I wasn't really sure why I hadn't done this before. Exploring the castle should have been my first action, but it occurred to me that it had taken me this long to get used to the vampires' schedule, and then have enough energy to stay awake longer than they could. And while I was certainly still under their scrutiny, I would have liked to think I was gaining their trust, slowly but surely.

So I walked through the familiar hall of the third floor, looking through rooms as I passed. A second parlor, another library, though this one was smaller, and the books looked too delicate to touch, more bedrooms – nothing exciting. I descended the stairs to the second floor and found another suite of rooms, these much nicer than those on my floor, and the library of course, which I discovered was actually connected to the suite by another doorway. Convinced that nothing was too trivial to know, I explored the layout of the set of rooms.

The door in the library led into a small dining room, complete with dining table, chairs, and a dusty fireplace. This room also led out into the hall. Past the dining room was an odd octagonal room, whose function I could only think of as being a sitting room, probably from a bygone era where such things were still widely used. And finally, this room led to a spacious bedroom with another fireplace. But that wasn't the first thing I noticed. It was the window.

Throughout the castle's rooms, none I had been in yet had a window that overlooked the front drive. I realized that I'd had no idea what the area in front of Castle Dracula looked like. Now I could see that the front courtyard was medium in size, with no distinguishing features save for a battered wall surrounding it. The driveway that led from the courtyard was fairly narrow, and winding. It disappeared into the thick wood I knew surrounded the castle. I stayed looking for a good ten minutes, but finally decided there was nothing else I could learn from the view. I left the suite of rooms and explored the rest of the floor quickly. All of the other doors were locked.

Another few minutes, and the same results were yielded on the first floor. Every door, including the front, was locked. I wasn't really surprised. What I was surprised about was that I couldn't even come onto the fourth floor of the castle. The door connected the hall to the tower staircase was shut tight. I didn't dwell on it too long. Sleep was beckoning to me, and I was pretty well satisfied with what I'd learned, even though I had ended up with more unanswered questions that I would have liked.

* * *

The next night the Count appeared again in the library. He said nothing, but sat in the same chair from the night before and began reading. I went through the same process of trying to fit him into a single role in my head with these new revelations – murderer or misunderstood? – and again failed.

We finished the first volume, and then the second, and then the third. I let him pick the next book, and he chose, interestingly enough, _Jane Eyre_. As the nights wore on, I thought it no coincidence that he chose another romance – especially one with such a fractious male character. I could see, clearly enough, what he was doing. Obviously, Verona had mentioned something to him. I refused to believe he was being sociable of his own accord. Everyone was well aware what types of persuasion he preferred, and companionable reading sessions was not one of them.

Unfortunately, it was working.

I found myself unable to ignore the positive features I saw in him as the weeks wore on. By the end of February, I looked forward to hearing his voice where once I had dreaded it. The sight of him sitting in his chair – for that was what I now called it – cradling a book in his hand, eyes focused intently on the page he read from, became my favorite sight to see. He was nothing but courteous, if a bit abrupt, before and after he started reading for the night, and he never did anything to hurt me.

We finished _Jane Eyre_ early in the night on March first. As he shut the book, rising from his seat as he did it, I stopped him.

"Count," I said, hoping I sounded civil enough, "I'd like to speak with you awhile."

A single black eyebrow rose in my direction before he turned to one of the bookshelves to place the novel back among its companions. I watched as he came back and sat down across from me, leaning forward with elbows on knees to show interest. His blue eyes settled on mine.

"What would you like to speak about, Sylvia?" he inquired.

"Why is it I've stopped needing to eat?"

Though the question was fairly random, and exceedingly late in coming, he answered promptly.

"You're connected to me now." A reference to the still-nightmarish scene on the train. "If I do not feel hunger, neither do you." _Don't you see you're already mine?_ he was saying. "Since you are not yet a vampire in your own right, your well-being is tied to my own." Ah, and there was the threat – if you kill me, you'll die, too. I knew there would be one somewhere. He could only keep up this act for so long before he slipped.

_But_, I thought, _to be fair, there is too much bad history between us to avoid sensitive subjects_. Then again, since when was I concerned about being 'fair?' Why was I making excuses, and why did I find myself _wanting_ to make those excuses?

"Why have you been reading to me these past few weeks?" I plowed on.

"It seemed the best way to spend time with you," he said. "After all, books can be translated and shared across cultures. Could they not also be a shared interest between you and I?"

I snorted. He seemed sincere enough, but-

"You can't honestly expect me to believe you find anything interesting about women's novels? _Pride and Prejudice_ and _Jane Eyre_? They're works meant to touch the hearts of women, not men. Especially not soulless vampires like yourself, Count," I said, not a little accusingly.

Something in me moved at the sight of his quirked smile.

"You're quite right, Sylvia. They do not appeal to me, wholly. But I know you enjoy them, and I find myself enjoying watching _you_ enjoying them. You did, did you not?" His eyes gleamed at me.

I paused, swallowing heavily, and looked away at the bookcases. My mouth felt dry.

"I did," I finally allowed. I looked back to him to see him sitting just as he had been, watching me intently. The first thing I noticed was his impeccable posture, so self-assured and strong; then came his finer features. His black hair was held back by the silver clasp, as usual, two locks framing his pale face. Frigid blue eyes sat over elegant cheekbones, an aristocratic nose, and thin, pink lips. His jaw was strong, but not overly. All in all, he was not bad to look at; in fact, he was rather handsome.

"Well," I said, rising, "I'll bid you a good night."

Not one to be caught off guard, Dracula rose with me. "Goodnight then, Sylvia." I met his eyes and almost didn't catch the smile that played on his lips for a split second. He made a small bow as I left, and I could feel his eyes on me the whole way back to my room.

* * *

The following evening I broke the pattern and went to find the brides. They were in the other bedroom on my floor; Verona sat on the bed sketching while Aleera combed her hair. Weeks ago I'd have been surprised to see Verona occupied in such a way, but now I barely paused. I leaned over her to see that she'd sketched – quite expertly – a picture of Aleera sprawled across a couch. She'd managed to capture her fierce beauty on the paper, while also making her seem like the gentlest woman on earth.

"You should paint," I told her, settling down to sit next to them.

"She used to," Aleera said. "But we have no more paints or canvases."

"Ah." I peered over at the doorway for a moment, but quickly averted my gaze. I chatted with the brides for a half of an hour, each time more disappointed when I looked to the empty doorway. Finally, Verona said something.

"Waiting for someone?"

I looked at her sharply. "No. Why would you say that?"

Aleera's tinkling laughter filled the small room. "You've glanced at that door ten times in thirty minutes. We know the master has been spending the past few weeks with you." She looked at me and continued in a surly voice, "He only comes back to us to sleep for the day."

"We've only been reading," I defended. "You could have joined us." Verona's smile was knowing.

"I don't doubt it," she said smoothly. Then, over our heads, she greeted, "Master."

"_Master_," Aleera purred, suddenly seductive.

"Sylvia," he said, ignoring them outright, "why are you not in the library?"

I had to reign in my emotions; I wanted to laugh at his serious face, all but demanding me to explain myself.

"I wanted to spend time with – my sisters," I said slowly and as innocently as I could. "You did not say we would be reading another book tonight."

"You should have expected it," he said, almost huffily. I stifled a smile. "Come."

I stood, but gestured to Aleera and Verona. "Are they invited?"

His blue eyes didn't even bother to scan the faces of his two remaining brides. "My brides don't care for reading."

Despite myself, I felt a thrill of something shoot through me. On one hand, I knew Dracula to be a murdering vampire who fed off innocents and did well to terrorize my town. On the other, I was coming to see him as a handsome, attentive man – something I'd lacked sorely in my life. And the way we exchanged words reminded me of the way my siblings and I used to talk. When he wasn't threatening, or killing, or doing any number of immoral things... he was actually quite charming.

Hardly understanding my own motives, I leaned over and kissed first Verona then Aleera on the cheek. I sent Verona a quick smile, which she mirrored, before making my way to the library. Dracula walked behind me, and I could feel his stare heavy on my back. He didn't say anything until we'd gone down to the second floor. Just as I was about to reach for the library door handle, he appeared in front of me. I jumped.

He spared a smirk at my shock before opening the door and gesturing me through. "After you," he murmured.

After we'd gotten settled, same as ever for weeks, he in a chair and I on a couch, the Count pulled a book from his breast pocket and offered it to me.

I raised an eyebrow at his inscrutable face, but took the book anyway.

"_Wuthering Heights_."

"I thought," he explained, "you might like to read tonight."

I looked back up to the Count's face but found it empty of any expression other than polite interest. _But_, I found myself reasoning, _what ulterior motive could he possibly have for having me read a book? I can't think of any, so what could be the harm in it?_

I cracked open the first page and began to read.

"Eighteen-oh-one. I have just returned from a visit to my landlord – the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with."

* * *

Hours later, I woke gently to find myself sitting on the Count's lap.

I started when I realized where I was, pushing myself up from his chest, which I'd been using as a makeshift pillow.

"What-"

"You fell asleep," he explained, the amusement obvious in his voice. I stared at him for a moment before tearing away from his penetrating blue eyes. I noted that _Wuthering Heights_ now lay on a side table.

"Well, you should have just woken me," I pointed out, struggling to leave his lap. "It isn't right. And what if Verona and Aleera saw this?" I questioned, before firing off, "Let me go!" for the Count had taken hold of my hips and wouldn't let me move.

"I _think_," he spoke in a hushed voice, "that it would have been rude to awaken you when you were sleeping so peacefully. I _wonder_ who can truly say what is proper or not. And, Sylvia," he breathed, his mouth close to my ear and his fingers a soft but insistent pressure on my waist, "I _know_ that it does not matter if my brides see this. After all," he said challengingly, "what exactly is there to see?"

I stilled in his grasp, and pushed him just far enough away to see his face. There was something in his face, something in the way his eyes connected with mine, but I couldn't tell what it was.

"You know what I mean, Count," I breathed.

"Do I?" he asked. "Your voice is mesmerizing." I almost laughed at his abrupt subject change.

"You're ridiculous."

"It's true," he insisted. His hands shifted me a bit closer, and I placed mine on his chest to keep him at length.

"If you like it so much," I asked, "why did you not wake me up after I fell asleep? Surely if my voice was truly 'mesmerizing' as you put it, you'd want me to continue reading no matter what?"

"Ah, but that would have meant disturbing your even more lovely sleeping form."

"Now I know you are lying." I renewed my efforts to leave his embrace.

"Sylvia. Look at me."

Despite myself, I complied with his wishes and looked him straight in the eye.

"What?" I demanded – and then he kissed me.

I melted. My fingers, which had been digging into his wrists, slipped forward to grip at his lapels desperately. My eyes shut in blissful pleasure as his lips captured mine again and again. His fingers squeezed at my hips and I gasped, allowing his tongue entrance to explore. While he mapped the inside of my mouth, a growing pool of heat in my stomach both worried and excited me. When my mounting pleasure finally persuaded me to return the kiss just as affectionately, I immediately and painfully cut my tongue on one of his fangs.

I hissed and pulled away, but not before he got a good taste of my blood.

"Sylvia." He let my name linger, playing the syllables over his tongue in a way no one had ever said them before.

I glanced at his face, and I was sure my own matched his – hooded eyes, swollen lips, electric eyes and all.

"Don't," I pleaded, still gripping his coat. "Just – it's late."

I swung myself off of his lap with no interference. I even managed to stand, though there was a slight wobble to my step, but I didn't get any further.

The Count was suddenly standing in front of me, a cool hand gently cupping my cheek. His touch was like ice fire, fueling the growing flame inside of me. I couldn't help but look again at his handsome face, even though I knew that by doing so I was one step closer to losing myself.

"Do not deny yourself, Sylvia," he breathed, his husky voice just above a whisper. "You know as well as I that you want this." The Count lightly, ever so lightly, ghosted his lips over mine, and I fought to stand still. "You cannot say you do not crave this." Again, but just a bit closer, so that I could feel the silky soft touch of his lips on mine. "You cannot say you do not yearn for this." I swayed on my feet and closed my eyes.

"But you have killed countless generations of my family," I whispered, seeing the ones I had personally known in the darkness behind my eyelids. "You've tried to kill me and my sister countless times – you killed Velkan."

"We were placed on opposite sides of the playing field," he allowed. "Our separate places would not allow us to come together, and we were forced by our positions to wage war on each other. But a twist of fate has allowed us to see past that. You have seen that I am not such a monster, Sylvia."

A light touch on my waist had me opening my eyes again to stare into his. I couldn't deny how convincing he sounded, and how honest. My body begged my mind to believe him.

"And you are a beautiful young woman." The Count's voice took on a seductive tone that made my knees weak. "One who possesses strength of mind, body, and soul. Be mine, Sylvia, and deny yourself no longer." His gaze smoldered down at me. "Come to me."

I stepped forward the one inch between our bodies, and it was all the encouragement we needed.

His hand on my waist reached out to my lower back to crush me against him as he took my mouth in his. Immediately, my lips opened for his roving tongue and the hands I had twined around his neck gripped luxurious hair. We must not have been there long, but the feel of his body, hard and muscled and mysterious against mine was maddening. Before long, I tore away from him, and it was _I_ who suggested we go somewhere else, _me_ who took things further.

The small chuckle reverberated through his chest and onto my skin and I shivered. The next moment we were both in my bedroom, and we came together again. Before long, his burning kisses were trailing down my jaw and neck, prevented from going any further by my gown. As if our thoughts were one, I turned around and he immediately began unlacing my dress.

Lips as cool as a winter wind pressed lightly over the skin of my back as it was revealed to the air. As I was turning back to him and slipping off the dress, he purred into my neck, "Relax."

It was only after it all happened that I realized he had bitten me. Instead of being blinded by pain as in the previous times, an explosion of unimaginable pleasure overtook me – it was so powerful I was unaware to all but the feelings rampaging through my body. By the end of it all, I was laying on my bed, panting and exhausted like I'd just run for miles. The Count was bent over me, his tongue still licking the puncture wounds, sending jolts of absolute bliss to my center.

He chuckled, and the very sound of his voice tugged at something deep within me. His face held amusement, eyes brighter than usual.

"Count-"

"_Vladislaus_, Sylvia," he admonished. "I believe we are past such formalities."

"Vladislaus," I said, testing the name on my tongue.

"Yes?" he murmured, lips once again preoccupied with my neck. I gasped and moaned, writhing beneath him on the bed. His lips traveled down further.

Eventually, his hand made its way to the tuft of curls between my legs and cupped gently. Instinctively, I pressed myself to his palm and he laughed quietly again, body poised over mine. Desperately, my eyes sought his and he looked at me with those shining bright eyes.

With a hint of teasing in his voice, he asked, "Are you confident this is what you want?"

"Oh, _yes_."

* * *

When I woke the next night, I was pleasantly surprised to find I was not alone in my bed. However, when I rose to sit up, it was not the Count who lay with me. Verona and Aleera, who had been twined around me as I slept, woke moments after me. While Verona smiled her greetings and rose to the wardrobe to get me a fresh dress, Aleera closed her eyes again and buried her face into my thigh.

"You smell like the Master," she purred.

"Has he left?" I asked, extricating myself from her grasp to take the dress Verona handed to me. It was one of the more revealing gowns, I noted, though I supposed I shouldn't have cared at that point what I was wearing. After all, all three of my companions had seen me naked, including this very moment. Shrugging, I slipped it on.

"Momentarily," Verona answered. "He told me he would be back within two hours." She moved behind me to tighten the laces of the dress. From the bed, Aleera gazed at me with secretive eyes.

"So are you truly our sister now, Sylvia?" she asked.

"Yes. I am."

There was no hesitation in my voice. The reality of my situation and the nature of my relationships with the vampires had truly hit me after the last night. I had been in their company for five months. In those months, I'd come to see that the vampires were more than just cruel monsters who thrived on terrifying and destroying humanity. They too had personalities, hobbies, and fears – just like any human.

And while a part of me was still disgusted by the process of blood-taking to survive, I could not deny the affection I'd gained for Verona, Aleera, and the Count – _Vladislaus_. And with what I'd learned – that a vampire's bite need not be painful, nor did the human need to be drained completely – perhaps I could convince the vampires to reexamine their ways? They had already shown promise by not leaving the castle in months except to feed. They always returned swiftly, so I knew they were not attacking my sister, which was my primary concern. If my new family no longer harassed my human family, was there not hope that they might leave our feud behind? That we could live out the rest of our lives, or whatever they amounted to, in relative harmony? I had convinced myself that I could live with vampires for the rest of my days if only I knew that Ana would be safe, especially since I'd finally given in to Dracula.

I held no illusions – I knew that by sleeping with him, I'd done exactly what he'd wanted me to. And after exchanging blood once again last night – I could feel my eyes grow hazy with the remembered pleasure of him taking my blood, and then his offering his own blood – I was tied even closer to him. But if we continued on this path of relative isolation, absence of terrorizing others, and general contentment with the simple life we had now, I could see myself being Verona and Aleera's sister – and his bride – for the rest of my existence.

The clap of Aleera's heels as she sprang from the bed in excitement startled me back to reality.

"I am so happy to hear that!" she gushed, clasping my hands in her own. "We shall only become better friends as time goes on, now that you are one of us."

"Sisters are always there for one another," Verona said with a pleased smile, echoing the line she'd used when she had nursed me back to health months earlier.

"Of course." I smiled back, confident in my answer. But I couldn't help hearing the small voice in the back of my head and knowing it was right when it said that though I'd gained two sisters, I'd lost the one who was worth a hundred of them.

In lieu of anything to do in my room, and without the company of Dracula, I suggested we make our way to the lounge on the second flour, and it was there the Count found us an hour later, sprawled on the couch, idling our time away.

"My brides," he greeted warmly. His dark form swept into the room, a light dusting of snow still visible on his shoulders. He held out his arms.

Aleera jumped at the chance for contact with her master, and Verona followed her into his arms almost as quickly. I was the last to reach him, but I did not deny how good it felt when I touched him. His hand cupped the back of my head tenderly, Verona pressed into the crook of his elbow beside me. Aleera he held in his other arm.

"How good it is to see you all together," he remarked, giving us each a chaste kiss on the tops of our heads. He pulled away to look at us, his three brides, before announcing, "I've brought you gifts."

"Oh, Master," Aleera cooed. "You are so good to us."

Dracula smirked, his eyes glinting. "I know, my dear."

"May we see them, my lord?" Verona asked, slipping an arm around my waist. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, convinced she had only acted to keep me from breaking the fragile bond between the Count and I. I think she knew that I would never be so meek and mild as to ask politely to see what he'd brought us, and I think she also knew that _he_ expected me to be exactly so. For the sake of my newly made decision to become part of the vampires' family, I allowed her to shepherd me into silence.

"Of course," he said graciously, and the next moment, we stood in the foyer staring at a small mountain of goods Dracula had somehow acquired. He took his arms from around our shoulders and stepped away to allow us a better look. My eyes took in the boxes, big and small, then slid past them to something infinitely more interesting to me.

The front door was open.

I stared, unbelieving at this odd occurrence.

That door was never ajar, let alone unlocked. I couldn't believe my eyes. As Verona and Aleera fawned over the presents Dracula had brought us, I watched as a man – a human man, and a gypsy by the looks of him – closed the heavy wooden door without looking inside, shutting away the outside world once again.

I moved forward to the boxes, lifting the lid of one to uncover a gorgeous silk gown, a bright green to match my new eyes. As I exclaimed aloud over the beauty of it, I tuned my enhanced hearing to listen to what sounded like carriage wheels departing down the drive. Men's voices drifted down with it.

I'm not sure why I even cared. After all, this was my new home, wasn't it?

My eyes, which had traveled to Dracula's face as I was thinking, were caught in his steely blue gaze. I smiled lightly and held the dress up to myself, twirling around. He smirked rather than smiled back at me, and turned his attention to Aleera, who was practically begging to be seen by him. I stopped twirling.

_Yes_, I thought, watching Aleera throw herself at the man I'd just given myself to. This_ was my new home_.

* * *

Later that night, I had the Count to myself again. Verona was painting in the lounge with the new art supplies Dracula had brought her, and Aleera was modeling in one of the new dresses he'd given her. I was currently wearing the jewels he'd given to me – a necklace, earrings, bracelet, and an anklet – and nothing else.

Unlike the previous night, the Count – _Vladislaus_ – still lay next to me. He was silent, utterly quiet as no human could ever be, except for when he rustled the sheets with movement. I sighed softly, still experiencing the aftershocks of being with him. Not only was it the sex, something I had previously understood would be well and good, but the process in which we exchanged blood only made it ten times better. It took quite a while for the delightful sensations to leave me, but I wasn't complaining.

Suddenly, his face was above mine, his cool body pressed into my side.

"Did you enjoy your presents?" he asked in a murmur, pressing his lips to my neck.

I sighed again, unable to stop my eyes from shutting in bliss.

"I did," I whispered.

"Good."

His lips trailed down to my collarbone, then my sternum, then my stomach, completely bypassing my breasts, which practically ached for his touch. He made his way back up to my face, finally kissing my lips.

"Let me see your eyes," he commanded.

I opened them obediently, lost to all but his touch, and he seemed satisfied with what he saw there. I groaned when he left the bed.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow at my accusatory tone.

"I cannot spend all my time with you, Sylvia. Surely you know that."

"I... know." I stood and walked to the wardrobe, slipping on a dressing gown and some ornate slippers. I resolutely ignored him until he appeared behind me, hands grasping my waist, lips at my cheek.

"I must distribute my company equally," he continued.

I remained silent.

"It was once you had no problem _what_ I did with my time," he pointed out.

I sniffed, turning away from him and crossing my arms, and then I could practically _feel_ the mirthful grin on his white face.

"_Jealous_, Sylvia?" he finally asked.

"I'm not!" I protested, spinning to stare at him.

"Admit it," he purred, stepping closer to me. His body pressed against the full length of my body, and I had to look up sharply to meet his eyes. "Admit that you are jealous."

I shut my eyes for a moment, then breathed, "Fine. You are correct, _Count_, as I'm sure you already knew. I do not want to share you."

"Exceptional," he breathed. He stepped away a fraction of an inch and held out his arms. "Well? Are you simply going to stand there all night like a statue, or shall I go to my other brides?"

Suddenly, just from knowing that he would stay, I felt much better.


	11. XI

**AN**: I want to take time before this chapter to thank everyone who has reviewed. It really does make my day to see that people are enjoying this story enough to send me a comment, even if it's just a line. You know who you are, and I thank you so much for sending me your thoughts and encouragement. I only hope I can live up to your expectations.

And on that subject, here is the latest chapter of _Diary of the Damned_. A bit shorter than usual, but I'm hoping the new developments will make up for it. Enjoy.

* * *

"What shall we do tonight, my lord?"

The young woman with dark brown curls falling down her back lay half on top of the half-naked man in bed next to her. She kissed down his jaw, giggling softly as she did it. She was positively giddy tonight, though she didn't quite know why. Then again, when she was with her husband, why shouldn't she be giddy with delight?

Beneath her, Vladislaus chuckled but took her by the arms and set her to the side as easily as furniture. Now sitting beside him, she frowned.

"I promised Aleera I would sit with her tonight, Sylvia," he said, dressing himself quickly.

"What shall I do while you're gone?" she complained. "You were gone from us last night, too. You know how much I miss you when you're not with me."

"Yes," he confirmed, "I know." He planted one last kiss on her lips as he straightened his coat. "Spend some time in your rooms," he commanded. "Try on that new gown I bought you, the French one with the lace. Wear it so I can see how beautiful you are when I get back."

She nodded agreeably from the bed, staring at him in adoration.

He gave her one last look before heading out into the hall. "Don't go into the library, Sylvia."

"Okay," she breathed.

His blue eyes flashed once at her, and he was gone.

The woman fell back onto the bed, sighing.

"I already miss him," she told the empty room.

Eventually, she stood and made her way to the wardrobe, which had been replaced with a new one sometime in the weeks prior in order accommodate all her new clothing. When or how, she didn't know. She didn't much care, either.

Sylvia sorted through the clothing, coming upon the thin silk of the French gown. Without all the petticoats meant to be worn with it, she knew it would cling scandalously to her body. She smiled at the thought, knowing that Vladislaus would like it.

She slipped on the burgundy dress and twirled once in front of the mirror to get the full effect of the dress. She was right about it clinging – and she knew she would be right about her lover's reaction. Sighing again at the thought of him, this time in longing, the woman stood in the middle of the room, waiting. What else was there to do? He wouldn't be back for hours.

She was wearing the dress just as he'd asked, but hadn't he said something else? The library?

He had definitely mentioned the library, though she couldn't quite remember what he'd said _about_ it. She'd been too busy with the sensation his voice created in her to pay much attention to what he'd actually told her. But, since he'd mentioned it, she would go. He must have said something about waiting there. She couldn't imagine him telling her something other than that, so it would be fine.

The woman walked sedately down the hall and staircase to the second floor, where she strode straight to the library and promptly sat down in her accustomed seat.

When she sat on the couch to wait, her eyes scanned the room perfunctorily. They slid over the small pile of books she and the Count wished to read in the weeks to come, an open map of England, and one of the new paintings Verona had finished. It was a self-portrait, one Sylvia thought looked rather like the woman herself. Sylvia was happy for Verona, even if she did require Vladislaus's company, too. Her artistic abilities had increased to the level of a master, even beyond since she was further gifted as a vampire, and her paintings reflected that skill. Sylvia's only wish was that Verona would do a portrait of their lord one day. That way, Sylvia could sit with the painting when Vladislaus wasn't around.

She hummed to herself for a moment, tapping a tune out on her leg. After a moment her eyes slid back to the map.

She walked over to the table it sat upon, and looked at it, something niggling in the back of her mind. She ran a fingertip over it until she found a circle drawn in blue ink.

_London, East Side_, the young woman read.

Her fingers, playing with the edge of the paper, felt something underneath, and she lifted the map to find a sheaf of letters and other papers.

At the top of one of the papers, in bold lettering, were the words _Exeter Soliciting_, and underneath those, the words _Carfax Estate_.

Not knowing why she did it, because it wasn't like anything mattered but Vladislaus, she read the papers. When she was done with the first in the pile she set the papers back down in confusion.

He was planning on moving to England. But why? What was the point? What could her beloved Vladislaus want there when _she_ was _here_?

She puzzled over this for a long time, glancing again at the papers, then the map, then back again. Something in her head was trying to make a connection, but she simply couldn't force it. Sylvia did not _care_ why he was moving, just that he was moving, and _why_ should he want to go away from her anyway? She swiped a hand over her eyes, feeling them burn as her lip quivered with repressed emotion. As she did it, she caught sight of the two small holes in her wrist where Vladislaus had bitten her before.

_Well,_ _of course_, she thought, _he's a vampire_. He was a vampire, and she was a human. Vampires fed on humans.

...And there were lots of humans in London.

All of a sudden, it clicked.

"God," I moaned, suddenly hunched over in a chair, eyes squeezed shut. "_What happened to me?_"

It was like I'd woken up from a spell – one minute I was seeing my life through a haze of fog, and the next everything was crystal clear again. I fell against the backrest, hand pressed over my rapidly beating heart. I didn't quite remember how I had ended up where I was – it was all vaguely familiar, but not as if it had happened to me – almost like someone told me the story of their day, but in the end the subject turned out to be me.

What I did recall with absolute clarity was the information I had just read. Something inside me that was still Sylvia Valerious had finally managed to rebel against whatever Dracula had done to me (and there was truly no doubt in my mind that it was he who enchanted me), and it seemed, at the sign of brand new trouble. Even under his control, I'd noted the letter's content as something to take notice of – and as a result, I broke free of the spell, or most of it.

That overwhelming, _unnatural_ urge to be with Dracula was still there, but I was myself once again. I could _think_. And I was thinking that the fiend who'd brainwashed me – with his blood, I swiftly realized – was making moves to relocate to this Carfax, and to what other purpose than to spread his disease and make more vampires?

Suddenly drained, I just sat there braced up against the armrest. Where was I to begin? First things first, I looked at the date on the letter I held in my hand.

_4 April 1889_.

Allowing at least two weeks for postal delivery, possibly more, it was mid to late April. I'd lost more than a month. I could remember clearly everything that had happened just until the point where I'd shared blood with Dracula for the second or third time. After that, it was a blur of confusing images and lost thoughts, most of which had to do with pleasing 'my lord.'

"What an _idiot_," I berated myself.

A momentary lapse of judgment, having too long denied myself, and I jumped into his arms. Whatever happened to my plan of escaping after gaining the vampires' trust? I had been fine up until I started spending my time with Dracula, but after that I seemed to have gone off track.

Actually, what was I talking about, _seemed_? I had just about gone as far off the track as was possible. I'd let myself be brainwashed into a simpering, obsequious whore for an undead monster – that is, after all, what he unquestionably was.

I had had my doubts before, but now? I laughed aloud. All my notions of them not being quite so bad were gone now. After that- that _devil_ did what he did? My desire to kill him was only stronger. The brides were no better, considering they obviously did nothing to stop it, but why should I have expected them to? I knew Verona wanted us to be one happy family, and the way I was acting surely worked into that dream of hers. Aleera was narcissistic and self-centered at best when she wasn't obsessed with Dracula – I'm sure she hardly cared or noticed. No, I couldn't trust any of them.

I lifted the papers to my eyes again and picked up reading where I'd left off.

It was worse than I ever could have thought.

He was bringing someone else into this mess – one of the solicitors who worked for the company, a Mister Jonathan Harker. The letter guessed his arrival would be sometime between May fourth and sixth, which could be mere days away. Whatever I was planning, I had to work quickly.

"What are you doing in here, Sylvia?"

My eyes shot to the doorway where Dracula stood. I must have been in the library longer than I realized. At the very sight of him, my calm evaporated.

Silently fuming, I stood, crumpling the papers I held in my fist. "I don't think _anyone_ can have more hate for you than I have now, you miserable blight upon God's earth."

Infuriatingly, he only cocked an eyebrow. "You had better watch your tongue, pious Sylvia, I believe you almost uttered a swear – what would your God think?" he mocked. "And so you've managed to overthrow my power over you. I take it those letters in your hand are what did it?" The fact that he didn't even seem put off by me ruining his plans only made me madder.

"How _dare_ you bring another innocent into your nest of evil?" I demanded, marching up to him. "And all for the purpose of corrupting more souls in England!" He smirked, not all bothered by the fact that I stood directly in front of him, invading his personal space.

"What did you think, Sylvia? That I would remain in this castle for the rest of eternity with you, Verona, and Aleera? Especially you?" He snorted derisively. "Yes, I know all about the pathetic hopes and dreams you held that actually made it possible for me to ensnare your consciousness. As if I would ever leave your sister to live out her life in peace."

I felt something in me fill me with worry at that statement, but I pushed it aside in favor of the anger that was consuming me. I slapped the wrinkled papers to his chest and snarled, "I will do everything in my power to stop this. And when my sister and Van Helsing finally discover this place, they will help me. _Count on it!_"

I stormed from the room, but not before Dracula had his last word.

"I was correct about that dress, it seems," he called after me. "I can see straight through it. You look positively _ravishing_."

I could just picture his toothy smirk.

* * *

After I discovered Dracula's plan, he seemed to do everything he could to throw my helplessness in my face.

I came across a book of modern English idioms and phrases open on the table next to the atlas, which had gained a few more circles around Exeter and Whitby. He left magazines and newspapers lying about, though they were none too recent, and what seemed like all of the English volumes that had previously been on the bookshelves found their way around the room so that I had no choice but to see them.

When I wandered the castle, I found that more doors had been locked, including the bedroom and lounge where I used to spend time with the brides. Upon inspecting the suite attached to the library, I could see that it had been cleaned and all the linens replaced with newer products. Two days later, after wandering further into the first floor, I discovered the kitchens had been opened and stocked with food. A set of gold dinnerware sat gleaming on a table.

"Surprised?"

I didn't jump as he probably would have liked, but turned to face him, idly fingering one of the finely wrought knives.

"How do you suppose you're going to get this food suitable for consumption?" I asked mockingly. "After all, I doubt you even know how to cook, let alone _remember_."

"You would be amazed to learn what I do and do not remember," he told me. "And you are correct, it would be below me to make the dishes for our esteemed solicitor-guest. Aleera will do it."

"Aleera?" I asked skeptically, ignoring the 'below me' comment. "She doesn't quite seem like the domestic type."

"She's only been dead a few decades," he explained, matter of fact. "She should remember how to prepare food even if she is a vapid woman." My heart almost reached out to Aleera at his words – no one deserved the person they cared about most in the world to use such callous words to describe them.

"You even acknowledge that she is a less than desirable companion?" I asked, actually curious. "Then why make her into one of your brides?"

Dracula eyed the knife in my hands before advancing into the room, strolling leisurely in between the worktables. I moved to keep him in front of me.

"She was not so simple-minded before I turned her," he said. "She truly had been a fairly intelligent woman, not to mention her beauty, which has only increased since her death. She was a fit companion in every sense of the word. But after she drank from a human and became vampire she seemed to lose herself."

There was no flicker of emotion on his face, nor any in his voice. He was simply stating the facts, and he was not at all emotionally swayed considering these were the women he slept and lived with. I was again glad that I had managed to dance out of his reach once more. I was also glad to have that certain piece of information. So long as I didn't drink from a human, it seemed I would not turn into a vampire – my guess had been right.

"And Verona?"

He thought for a moment before answering, watching me intently. "She has managed to retain most of herself, though I do believe she has lost some of her luster over the centuries. She was my first bride, you know."

"I know," I retorted. "My family studied your little nest ever since you were created and we took on the sacred quest to destroy you. I know more about you than any other ever has."

"Oh?" he questioned lightly. "Do you really though, Sylvia?" I gripped the knife tightly in my hand as he approached. I didn't want to back down, but I didn't want him to come any nearer, either. I stood my ground until he was just a step away when he stopped.

"Did you know," he began, "that it was I who killed the young boys in your town all those years ago?" He smirked at my face. "I thought _not_. Boris thought it was one of my brides who had a predilection for the blood of virgin boys." He snorted. "He had no idea that my goal was to force him to relocate all the males in your age group – and I succeeded. I couldn't possibly have you or your sister finding yourself beaus, could I? Not when I was contemplating taking you both for myself."

For a moment, all I could do was openly gape at him.

"You truly did put all your effort into making my family's existence hell, didn't you?" I said quietly. My eyes were wide and staring, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from the man who had ruined anything and everything in my life.

"Oh, not your entire family," he corrected. "I have focused my attentions specifically in the past decades to you and your siblings. And now Velkan is dead, and you are halfway there," he concluded glibly.

"I won't let you do this to me, I won't listen!" I insisted, setting the knife down and turning away. "I refuse to have you tell me these things, only to torture myself with thoughts of the past. I'm sick of trying to seek out reasons for everything that happens to me, and I know that's exactly what you're trying to do. You want me to question my faith," I said in a rush, "and though I may have stumbled once, you won't get me to forsake my God."

His cold presence appeared at my back, and I couldn't stop the not unpleasant shudder that rippled through my body at his closeness. After the month under his control, my body responded to him strongly, even now.

As if to tell me he knew exactly what I was feeling, he murmured next, "And did you know, Sylvia, that you were not the only woman of the Valerious clan to welcome me so _intimately_?"

I froze where I stood, hardly daring to breathe. There was a painful moment of silence, until I forced myself to ask the question, because I had to know, couldn't not know-

"She was rather good at it," he said, the relish obvious in his voice. "Your mother, that is."

I didn't give him a chance to say anything more. I flew from the kitchen on feet that barely touched the floor until I was once again in my room. I slammed the heavy door shut behind me, hugging myself and taking deep breaths – but the damage was already done.

My mother had-? With _him_?

Estera Valerious, my mother, had died when I was but six years old – the memories I had of her, though few and faded, were only that of a loving woman who always did her best to take care of our family. I could barely comprehend the person I remembered doing any such thing with the despicable Count. And yet, hadn't _I_?

It should have been even harder to picture me, someone who was raised as a Valerious, knowing my family's destiny, giving into Dracula in such a way. But I did it all the same. If I looked at it in that light, the possibility of my mother's infidelity and betrayal was all the more believable.

I stopped in front of the narrow window in my room, looking out over the deep gorge that surrounded most of the castle. It was a new moon tonight, but the lack of light didn't stop me from observing the tops of the trees bending in the wind. I sighed and closed my eyes, pressing my forehead to the cool stone wall. I felt exhausted.

Thinking about it, that had probably been Dracula's purpose all along. It wasn't like I even had any way of knowing if he'd told me the truth. If he occupied my thoughts with painful doubts and memories, whether they were valid or not, I would be too busy with my past to think about the future, which meant he would win once again. To prevent that, I had to set aside all the thoughts concerning my mother and the past.

Easier said than done, of course.

I stripped myself of the French gown and put on something that was more modest, even though most of the dresses Dracula had obtained were nothing of the sort, and even found some underthings to put on. Anything to make me feel more secure from his penetrating gaze. Then I took some perverse pleasure in pushing the dress through the window and letting it fall into the night air. I watched it sway with the wind, descending at an almost lazy pace among the rocks and stray roots, until it disappeared from sight.

I hoped it was expensive.


	12. XII

"Sylvia, my dear. What happened?"

I looked up from the book I had been thoroughly engrossed in – the one about English idioms – to see Verona standing in front of me. As annoying as it was to have Dracula throw my weaknesses in his face, it didn't mean I wasn't willing to learn from it. The fact that I was taking a step forward and trying to improve my English pleased me. The look on Verona's face, however, did not.

"Whatever are you talking about?" I asked her dully, lifting to the book to my eyes again and blocking her out in the process. Her pale hand appeared and plucked the book from my grasp and placed it on the table out of my reach. I sighed and looked at her again, noting the determined set of her face.

"You may as well sit with me," I told her, gesturing to the library's other couch. "I have a feeling you're not going to leave me in peace until I answer your questions." She sat gracefully and crossed her legs at the ankle, apparently a remainder of her long ago life as a noblewoman, and then started in straight away.

"What happened between you and the Master?" she asked again. "Everything had been running so smoothly, and now the balance is ruined as it was before."

"Before he hypnotized me, you mean?" I retorted meanly. "Verona, I was perfectly capable of negotiating the relationship between the Count and I so long as he did not harm me or cause unnecessary injury to other humans. Since he impaired my free will, effectively erasing more than a months' time from my memory, and he's planning on wreaking havoc in London, I find myself wholly justified in terminating our friendly accord."

"I hope you were listening to yourself," Verona commented, "because behind those composed tones, I believe even you could sense the emotion."

I stared hard into her blue eyes before finally admitting, "Of course. I would be truly lost if I failed to, in some small part of me, mourn the loss of our relationship, however fragile, broken, or false it was. Still," I insisted, "how can you even expect me to forgive him after what he did?"

"Because if you do not, there is still a chance that you will never truly belong to our family. Just as you have not yet become a vampire, the lack of a link to our master means you might not ever really belong. And if you do not belong, you may be killed."

"It's only fair," I rejoined in a somewhat joking manner, "since I myself have determined that Dracula may be killed depending on his determination to spread his disease across the world."

"You mean to say you still haven't given up your family's feeble undertaking, Sylvia? Even after all we have been though?"

I directed my attention to the doorway the man himself had just appeared in. He wore the little smirk I had become accustomed to, and his attention was focused solely on me, another thing I was used to, but never comfortable with. The mocking manner in which his words were spoken revealed nothing.

Dryly, I asked him, "And if I were to assume you'd been listening to this entire conversation -?"

"You would be correct," he agreed equably. In the same breath, he added, "Leave us, Verona." She was gone a moment later.

"Why is it you always must have me alone, Count?" I questioned. "Can you not bear to see me with your other brides, possibly plotting to overthrow you?"

He dismissed my slight teasing with a wave of his hand, completely serious.

"Verona and Aleera would never try to kill me - they've too long been devoted to my service. Neither would even know what to do without me." I cringed at the apt description. "And yet you, Sylvia." He came and twirled a bit of my hair around his finger. "You, I can always count on to plan my defeat. Tell me, how is your scheme coming along? Have you discovered how to work around the small _fact_ that you are weaker, less intelligent, and to all intents and purposes, inferior to me?"

I bristled. "Inferior? Whose family is it you've not managed to kill off after four centuries?" I reminded.

"Minor details," he dismissed, sitting in the seat Verona had vacated. "And may I remind _you_ that it is your family that has only been able to destroy two vampires in the past four centuries? Obviously, of which, I was not one."

"And that brings me back to my 'scheme,' as you phrased it. Gabriel Van Helsing has killed a vampire quite recently, I think you'll remember. After all, Marishka _was_ one of your brides."

"Van Helsing," he sneered. "You still put such faith in that man, Sylvia?"

"Of course," I replied. "The Vatican sent him to us – he is obviously an agent of God."

Dracula snorted derisively. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, but the mean look of his face turned the small smile into a cruel gesture. "Van Helsing," he emphasized, "is more than just an agent of God. He is the _left_ hand of God; _Gabriel_. And yet," he continued, "he has yet to kill me even after all this time. There is also the matter of your sister."

"What about my sister?" I demanded, clenching a hand into the folds of my dress. "He hasn't failed to protect her again, has he? _You_ haven't done anything, have you?"

He chuckled darkly.

"No, no, Sylvia. He is protecting her quite well. You could say, he has been keeping an eye on every inch of her." Dracula stood, and I rose to stay on equal footing. There was a slight twinkle in his blue eyes, and I was suddenly presented with one of the memories from the time I'd lost. Soft fluttering moans, bruising kisses, hot skin pressed against cold.

I blushed.

The Count laughed again before he was standing directly in front of me, fingertips gently brushing my jaw. My head tipped back automatically, from habit and from the heat running through my veins. His lips pressed against my neck, kissing down to the spot that held the shiny scars from previous bites. I was lost until the cold sharpness of his fangs touched my skin, and I startled awake, as if from a dream.

I jerked away from his touch, pushing past him for the library door. In a second, he was in front of me, and caught my wrist to keep me from leaving.

"Let me leave, Count," I warned.

"Or?" he asked sarcastically. "What is it you plan to do if I do not?"

In answer, I flung my free hand in a fist at his face. Of course, he caught it, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Sylvia, really? After all this time, one might think you would give up on tactics that have been shown to accomplish nothing."

"Oh?" I questioned. "Then why don't you take your own advice, Count, and stop pursuing my family? It obviously hasn't done you very much good since we're still alive." I struggled to free myself from his grasp, and glared at him when his grip was unrelenting.

"Unfortunately," he drawled, "I cannot allow that. Not when there are only two of you left. Oh, pardon my mistake," he added with false surprise. "One and a _half_."

I started struggling again and didn't notice when we were abruptly in my room. He finally released my wrists and I rubbed them, trying to alleviate the redness. I stared at him while I did it, but he didn't attempt anything else.

"And now, I have something to tell you, Sylvia." He grinned cruelly, fangs showing somewhat. "The solicitor, our _friend_," he mocked, "Jonathan Harker is on his way here at this very moment. He will arrive quite shortly."

"So soon?" I breathed to myself.

"Oh, yes," he said mirthfully. "But it matters not to you, since you will not be seeing hide nor hair of him."

"How can you say that?" I questioned. "It's not as if I'm likely to listen to a thing you say."

"Of course," he agreed. "That is why you will be locked inside your room until I allow him to leave. If I allow it at all."

Before I could protest, he was gone and the door was shut. I ran to it, only to hear the sound of locks sliding shut. I yelled, banging on the door with my fist, but it was good, solid wood, and the door handle had no signs of the locking mechanism on this side of the door.

I was trapped.

"I'll find a way out!" I yelled through the door. "Or I'll create enough noise that he'll wonder! You cannot keep me locked up forever, Dracula!" I waited for a moment, listening, but he gave no answer.

There was nothing.

I screamed in frustration, stalking to the window and back to the door. I banged on it once, then abruptly went and sat on the bed. I waited until I heard the noises that signaled the Englishman's arrival, and went back to the door. I pressed an ear to the wood and heard distant footsteps, and a door opening. Now I had a chance.

I made good on my threat, doing my best to create as much noise as possible. I banged my fists on the door, screamed as loudly as I could, and even resorted to throwing things. I broke the chair that I spent most of the winter months sitting in by throwing it at the door. It splintered and broke apart, but the door was as good as ever. Through it all, nothing alerted me to my success, so I assumed I had failed. The door was simply too strong, and the walls too thick for me to be heard. I paced my room, hoping another idea would come to me before anything terrible happened the poor man downstairs.

It must have been nearly sunrise when he came.

My door was shoved open, banging roughly against the stone wall. I had scarcely turned to see who it was when I was thrown from the bed. Before I could even fall to the ground, he caught my throat in a vice-like grip, cold fingers digging harshly into my skin. I peered into his face, and flinched at what I found there. His blue eyes flashed dangerously, and his skin was even paler in rage. Most worryingly was the sight of his fangs bared in a snarl.

"Wretched girl!" he hissed, throwing me again into the wall. Clutching at it, I gulped the air after my momentary suffocation, but it was thrust back out of me when he turned me around with force, my lungs unable to keep its cargo under the pressure. My head banged the stone and my eyes watered.

"I take it he heard?" I asked lightly, eyes bright with pain. He hissed.

"You could not just keep yourself quiet," he growled. "I had to make up some nonsense about ghosts just to silence his queries. You nearly ruined _everything_!"

"You shouldn't have locked my door," I shot back. He backhanded me and I went down, tasting blood. Even though I could feel him becoming angrier, more unhinged, I kept going. I couldn't seem to stop myself, even though I knew it unwise.

"What?" I questioned, almost laughing. "Can't you handle it, Count? How does it feel to know a mere woman, even worse, a mere _human_ woman, could ruin your plans in an instant?"

"Silence!" he commanded harshly. Rage made his handsome face ugly, recalling some essence of his hell bat form.

I chuckled lowly.

"Why? What are you going to do about it?"

There was a flash, like he had moved too quickly for me to see, and for a moment I doubted myself. Then the agonizing pain hit me and I screamed.

His hand came over my mouth, squeezing. Some of the anger left his face, and he sneered cruelly.

"I suppose feeding my legend of ghosts in the castle is a fairly decent idea. Thank you, Sylvia, for giving it to me. And thank you so much for volunteering." With his other hand, he lifted my broken arm as he crouched in front of me. I shrieked again, stomach doing flips. Before my eyes clenched shut I saw it, bloody and bending in an unnatural place. Pale bone poked through the skin.

He tossed it down with an uncaring grin and stood.

"It would seem the ghosts are unnaturally active tonight, hm?" he mused. "Howling and shouting, and making all sorts of noises. I hope our guest manages to sleep through it all."

Without another word, he left, shutting the door as he did.

I lay on the hard floor, attempting to even out my breathing before I hyperventilated. I stayed that way for some time, unable even to move when the sun rose. I'd never noticed it before, but the sun suddenly felt unwelcome on my skin. It made me feel strange, like it never had before. I made myself scoot into the slight shade next to the bed, crying out when I jarred my broken arm.

I dozed when I couldn't resist the exhaustion, waking occasionally when a twinge of pain ran through me. It seemed like an eternity until the sun set again, and then Aleera appeared.

"Sylvia," she tsked. "You've made the Master angry. You see what happens?"

The red head crouched down next to me and gazed at my arm. A tiny smirk appeared on her face at the sight of the blood, and before I could do anything, she'd taken my arm and licked it. I whimpered at the pressure.

"Perfect," she crooned. Her purple eyes positively glowed in pleasure.

"If you're done," I spat.

"Oh, hush," she murmured. "I came to help you, if you can stand to take it." She giggled madly.

I debated for a minute, then asked, "What kind of help?"

"If you take some of my blood, even a few drops, you'll heal faster," she told me.

"No!"

Aleera smiled, showing fang.

"I told Verona you would say that." She stood, pink dress fluttering softly. As she passed through the door, she bid me a pleasant goodbye; "Have fun healing for the next few days – I hope you like pain."

I had no idea what she was talking about then, but as I spent the next few days lying there on the floor, hesitant to move anywhere for fear of hurting myself further, I discovered what she meant.

The normal healing process takes anywhere from a few days to months, depending on the injury. Because most creatures heal at a natural pace, they cannot feel much of the process at all. But as a vampire, or even a half-vampire as I was, the process was sped up several times. My arm healed an injury that should have taken months in mere days. During those four days, my arm was on fire. Every hour or so I'd look at it and discover that another bit of bone had disappeared underneath my skin, or some of the crookedness was relieved. While the fact that my arm was becoming whole again was good news, it left me largely incapacitated. I kept thinking about how I could be stopping Dracula from harming the solicitor, or preventing him from obtaining the Carfax estate. Such thoughts tortured me in my waking hours, which were many, since the pain in my arm didn't allow me much sleep.

When the slow, burning pain finally stopped I almost couldn't believe it. I muttered a prayer of thanks before promptly falling unconscious.

* * *

When I woke again, it was night, probably of the same day I'd fallen asleep. I stood, muscles aching after being subjected to the stone floor for days, and immediately walked to the door. I tried the handle, scarcely hoping it would be open.

To my great surprise, it twisted easily under my grip. Before I actually opened the door, I let go of the handle.

If I went out there, what exactly was I going to do? Be caught by the Count and have something else broken? No, I couldn't afford something like that again, not when so much was on the line. No, I had to be sure that Dracula wasn't out there.

I would wait until sunrise.

Patiently – for what else but patience had I been able to cultivate here, with all my waiting – I sat in my room until the soft light of the sun fell onto my floor. I hurried out of its rays, remembering the unsettling feeling it now gave me, and crept into the dark hallway, shutting the door softly behind me. I listened for a moment, and since I heard nothing, I descended to the second floor.

As quietly as I could, I entered the suite I knew Dracula had given the solicitor, proceeding through the dining and waiting room, and into the bedroom. When I saw him, I hesitated to go any further than the threshold. Moonlight shone through the window to illuminate the man, Harker I thought his name was, sleeping peacefully on his stomach. Just as I was about to go, having gotten the look of him just as I'd wanted, I took a breath through my nose – and I was lost.

I could feel my heartbeat pounding my ears. My eyes, I could feel, had widened, blazing with the intoxicating scent I'd just inhaled – hunter's eyes. I turned my new gaze onto the man, seeing his softly rising back not as something peaceful, but as easy prey. Now I didn't hesitate.

In an instant, I was standing next to him, snatching at the first bit of exposed skin I could see. I shoved his nightshirt up off his hip and the gently rising slope of his butt; lightly caressing the soft skin before sinking fangs I didn't remember growing into his flesh.

There wasn't a lot of blood, so I had to suck on the wound, and I vaguely heard the man moan beneath me. It didn't matter, though. The only thing that mattered was the burning hunger I was suddenly feeling and the sweet, saccharine smell of human in my head.

I'd only swallowed twice _too little, too small, want more more more_ when I was torn into by a terrible pain. I staggered backwards and crashed to the floor, knees cracking against the stone. I fell further, scrabbling against the cold hardness because the pain wouldn't stop, and _why won't it stop, make it stop!_

The panic that overcame me when my breathing slowed to just three times per minute, then twice, then once, then not at all, was all consuming until I regained my sanity. With my sanity came my realization. My face was a picture of terror even after the pain was gone. My heartbeat was nonexistent. My body was growing cold.

I'd done the unthinkable.

I thought about standing, and the next I knew I was. I choked back horror and fled from the room on weak legs, nearly colliding with the door as I tried to escape from my actions. I ran to the third floor, about to enter my room when I felt him. I turned around.

"You couldn't resist, could you?"

I only stared at him, unable to summon up any emotion other than disbelief. After a moment, I couldn't stand to look at his dark form any longer and closed my eyes.

His presence disappeared and reappeared at my back. Fingers as cold as mine would soon become pressed softly into my shoulder.

"Now you cannot go back," he whispered into my ear. "I am the only one left in this world who will accept you for what you are. Don't forget that, Sylvia."

I waited till he was gone to open my eyes.

Usually when he left my presence I felt better immediately. This time his departure gave me no such comfort.

This time it didn't matter that the monster had left me.

Because this time, I was a monster myself.


	13. XIII

_Tap, tap, tap_.

A slight pause, then again.

_Tap, tap, tap_.

I didn't quite know where I was. Somewhere in the castle, some inner room with no windows. It didn't matter.

I lay on my back on the floor, unable to make myself move from the spot. I left my room shortly after arriving in it following... last night. It might have been hours or days, perhaps mere minutes since I came to the room. I wasn't sure. Then again, I didn't care.

My fingers moved of their own accord, tapping the ground in a mostly steady beat. The slight sound of flesh lightly hitting the ground shouldn't have been as loud as it was. I tried not to think about the reason the taps sounded like low booms in my ears. Tried not to, but failed. It played through my head repeatedly like a mantra, words almost a blur but still, always, recognizable to me.

'I am a monster.'

_Tap, tap, tap._

'I am an abomination.'

_Tap, tap, tap._

'I am a vampire.'

But not, 'I have failed.'

No. My fingers stopped moving. No, not that. I still had a chance so long as Ana was alive.

Eventually, I forced myself to stand. The darkened room was not as dark as I would have wished. True darkness would probably never exist to me again, save for the darkness behind my eyelids. The room was shadowed, but I could see everything perfectly clearly under a sort of bluish haze. Actually, I could see rather better than perfectly.

I reached out to touch the stone, seeing new facets to it I'd never noticed before, and the surface felt so much rougher than it once had. When I caught sight of my hand, my attention was moved again. I had a disturbing feeling of being able to see through the skin to the delicate veins underneath. My nails were longer, sharper. Shiny, almost like glass.

It took me longer than it should have to leave the room, and when I finally finished examining everything with my new eyes, I exited to the hallway beyond. It was still within the daylight hours, and my eyes burned in the soft light. I let my feet lead me back to my room, avoiding all patches of light coming through the windows. My dress had been stained with blood and dirt since I had changed it last, and if I was going to confront Harker, I needed to at least try and look like a normal person.

My room was still a mess, so I shut the door and crossed to the wardrobe, shoes crunching on the shards of the broken mirror. I found the first dress I'd ever worn coming here, the black with the high neckline and long sleeves, and found a skirt I could turn into a makeshift petticoat. I rubbed at my mouth with a sheet to get rid of the stains, satisfied when I could no longer taste anything. I settled my hair into a simple bun since I couldn't possibly manage anything more complicated without a mirror, and set off for the library.

I opened and closed the door quietly. So quietly, the man inside didn't even notice my presence. I took the time to observe him as I hadn't been able to before.

He was a handsome young man, though not Romanian. The Englishman had dark brown hair just long enough to pass the tips of his ears, and I could see there was a slight wave to it. He would probably stand taller than me by about six inches, making him a relatively short man. Unremarkable brown eyes stared back at me from under refined eyebrows. His nose, straight off a Roman vase, sat centered on his face above an ordinary pair of lips. His high cheekbones gave him an air of elegance and elevated rank, not to mention the pale skin of someone not required to work outdoors. His clothes, a brown suit, black tie, and brown shoes, echoed that fact. A bit monochromatic, but handsome nonetheless.

He still hadn't noticed me during my observation, so I opened the door and shut it again, this time with an audible click. We both looked at each other, and I exclaimed in false surprise, "Oh! My apologies, I did not realize anyone was in here." I placed a hand on the doorknob to suggest leaving. As I thought he might, since he couldn't have been properly socializing with the Count, and therefore must be lonely, he stood rapidly with a protest on his lips.

"I don't mind, really." He gestured to the couch. "In fact, I would much prefer some company. Please, join me."

I smiled demurely and curtsied briefly before taking the offered seat. "Thank you, Mister Harker."

"I see you know my name," he said apologetically, taking his seat again, "but I'm afraid the Count has said nothing of you."

"I am not surprised," I said. Without further elaboration, I replied, "My name is Sylvia Valerious. I am a... distant relative of Dracula." Very, very distant, but it was the truth.

He nodded. "If it's not too bold to ask, how have you come to be here in the castle?"

Mind racing quickly for a plausible answer, I came up with, "I am visiting with him in lieu of my father, who has taken ill. It was unavoidable, as I am his only child still unmarried." I turned innocent eyes to him. "And you? The Count only told me that we would be hosting a guest, but not the reason. Not that we aren't pleased," I added with a smile. He returned the gesture, and I couldn't help but notice he looked even handsomer when he smiled.

"I was summoned by the Count to settle a matter of his buying an estate in London," Harker explained. "In fact, I've been here for several days already. How is it I've never seen you before?" he inquired.

"It's regretful, but I have been forced to spend much of the past two weeks resting," I confided. "I caught an illness on my journey here, and I've only just recovered."

"How unfortunate," he sympathized. As if it explained the matter, he said, "This cold weather is certainly something to contend with, especially so if you're not accustomed to it."

I agreed with a noncommittal tone. Somewhere during our conversation, I had become aware of something I couldn't quite explain – a pressure of sorts. Since I had spent so much time around it, though previously unaware of the existence of this strange aura-like force, I knew exactly what it meant.

"I am afraid I must leave you for today," I said regretfully, trying to look frail. "I believe I may have been too hasty to leave my recovery bed." Harker rose a fraction of a second after me, appearing slightly bewildered at this rapid change of course.

"Certainly," he agreed with me. "Will you return when you feel your strength has returned to you?"

I smiled into his face and laid my hand on his arm for a brief, delicious moment. Even through the cloth, I could feel his warmth.

"Of course," I assured him. I withdrew my hand and moved to the exit, only to have the Englishman walk past me to open the door.

"Thank you," I said genuinely. I paused for a moment on the threshold. "When I am in good health again, I shall seek you out here if that is suitable."

He nodded. "I look forward to the pleasure of your company again, Miss Valerious."

Quickly, before the pressure could get any closer, I disappeared into the interior of the castle.

* * *

The next day I woke early again. Skirting the sunlight from the few unshuttered windows, I found myself in the library momentarily, greeting Harker a good afternoon.

"Feeling better?" he queried. He was poised over a sheaf of papers at the desk, a pen in hand.

"Much," I answered simply. A smile rose, unbidden, to my face.

"I am glad to hear it, Miss Valerious," he returned.

I sat on the couch and picked up the book on English idioms, still sitting on the same table where I'd left it after being interrupted by Verona, though it was now shut. Someone else had been reading it.

"Do you have time to sit and talk with me, Mister Harker?" I asked him.

Obligingly, he moved from the table and came to sit across from me, but said, "Only for a moment. I must work on the Count's papers."

"He'll be fine without them for a few hours or so," I promised him. Sensing some hidden emotion behind his words, I asked cautiously, "You are not afraid of him?"

"Of course not!" he burst out. I noted the slight tremor to his voice. "The Count has been nothing but a courteous and noble man," he amended.

I nodded in an unconcerned manner. "As is to be expected. Now," I said, "how would you like to hear a story?" If I was right about my suspicions, and the nervousness I was picking up from Harker, my little tale might inspire him to speak up.

"A story?" the man asked skeptically.

"A legend," I explained. "The people around here believe in it just as much as the Christian Bible. It's about a certain wretched and terrible creature, called-"

"_Sylvia_."

Abruptly, I stopped and scowled at the doorway. There stood Dracula in all his undead glory. He must have awoken and come when he sensed where I was. The sun had set without me realizing it. Not that the sun would actually faze him too much. After all, I was able to move about.

"Mister Harker," he began, "I hope my niece is not bothering you with her silly folk tales. For a woman she has an unbelievably avid imagination, and completely took to the superstitious nonsense she was told on her journey here." He directed his piercing gaze to me, as if challenging me to open my mouth and contradict him. I maintained my heated stare but said nothing. Now was not the time.

Half worried, half discomfited, Jonathan stood abruptly at Dracula's words, a light shade of red spread across his cheeks.

"No, Count. I- I was just taking a short break from working to give Miss Valerious some company." With his words, he seemed to grow more confident. "Moreover, I do not object to hearing more about your country and its culture, even if it is merely superstitions."

Grateful and amazed at this mere man's courage, I looked up at him to see a timidly resolute countenance as he stared at Dracula. Smirking slightly, I chanced a quick look at the vampire. As I thought, he was not taking this insubordination well; there was an expression of barely concealed rage on his face.

However, he quickly regained himself and said, "As you will. Nevertheless, I expect those papers to be repaired accordingly in due time. My niece, join me for a walk so that Mister Harker may continue his labors in peace."

Without missing a beat, I quipped, "I would rather stay and read."

"I insist." Dracula's ice blue eyes flashed dangerously.

Unwillingly, I rose and curtsied formally to Harker before crossing the room and disappearing through the door that Dracula _courteously_ held open for me. I shot him a hidden look of disdain. His act wasn't fooling anyone but the poor Englishman, and even he must have been noticing things were not quite right in Castle Dracula.

The door closed and we walked silently, my arm trapped by his, until we had left human hearing range. Abruptly, Dracula caught the back of my neck and squeezed like he was disciplining a puppy – not so hard as to bruise, but hard enough that he knew he had my attention.

"What was that, Sylvia?" he inquired calmly, as if he wasn't threatening me. "Trying to gain another useless ally?"

"Trying to open his eyes," I spat. "He suspects, you know."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I would imagine he does. I let him see my other form."

"You what?" I gasped.

"I never entertained the idea of his leaving this castle, Sylvia," he explained. "You must have guessed. Even a dense Valerious girl as you are, you at least possess some skills of deduction."

I stared at him for a moment before asking, "What are you planning, Dracula?"

"You may maintain your contact with Harker," he said, ignoring my question. "I know you must enjoy his company, human-still as your sentiments are." He sneered. "But there will be no further talk of folklore, do you understand?"

I debated the wisdom of angering him and decided against it. I would find a way around this.

"Fine," I conceded. He released my neck and patted me on the head as one would a favored pet. I jerked away from the contact and he chuckled.

"It was not so long ago that you begged for my touch," he reminded me.

I had nothing to say to that, so I pushed past him. He caught my hand and I frowned back at him.

"You may not speak with him further today," he ordered casually. "I want that inane story you began spouting out of his head, and it will not happen if you return."

"Fine," I growled again. "If I may have my arm back?"

He released me and disappeared faster than I could follow. The pressure I'd sensed the day before went with him.

I returned to the third floor, intent on spending the rest of the night in solitude in my room. However, there were two familiar faces waiting for me when I arrived.

"Verona," I nodded in acknowledgment. "Aleera."

"So, you have met him?" Aleera asked breathlessly. "The human?"

Verona sighed. "Isn't it obvious, Aleera? Of course she has." I stiffened. "She is vampire now."

Aleera's purple eyes brightened noticeably and she bounded off the bed to come closer. She inhaled deeply at my neck and purred, "I see it now."

I jerked away from her and crossed to my bed. "Why are you here?" I demanded.

"To see how you were doing, of course," Verona said smoothly.

Revealing the real reason, Aleera smiled. "To hear about the Englishman."

"Why would it matter to either of you?" I asked her suspiciously. "There's no way Dracula would allow you two to meet him. You're both too... inhuman."

Verona merely looked at me with those bright eyes. Aleera laughed a tinkling laugh.

"That is why the Master won't find out," she purred, grasping my chin in between her two fingers. I glared at her and pushed her hand away.

"Oh?" I asked challengingly. "And how do you propose to get away with that?"

"The Master has left, Sylvia," Verona said now. "Didn't you notice?"

I concentrated on feeling the pressure I knew to be Dracula's, unable to find it anywhere. Verona was right, it was absent from the castle. Seeing my understanding, Aleera linked her arm with mine and began leading me from the room. Verona trailed behind slowly.

"You see, Princess," Aleera crooned, "we will wait for him in the lounge. The door is unlocked," she informed me. We walked down the stairs and left the stairwell. I let her lead me to the lounge and seat us together on the sofa. "And when he explores, which I can assure you he does quite often, he will find us." She gave me a mischievous smile. "After all, why should you get to have all the fun?"

"Fun?" I questioned. Verona came and seated herself on the other side of me, boxing me in. I stood and strode to the window, which was letting in the strong moonlight. "I will never classify my becoming a vampire as a good thing, let alone a 'fun' event." I glared over my shoulder at the two of them. "Nor would I consider it 'fun' befriending him for humanity's sake."

Verona smiled slightly and shook her head. "Sylvia, will you never come to love yourself as you are now? To find the joy of being an immortal being? Humans are a separate breed; they are our prey now, and we are the ultimate hunters. The Master is only following this natural rule."

"We began as human beings," I spat, "or have you forgotten after all the years?"

Aleera sighed, bored with the conversation, and made a show of leaning back and pretending to sleep. We both ignored her.

"Everything starts off in an inferior stage and evolves," Verona insisted. "Humans start off as helpless squalling things born from their mothers, and later develop into great men and women. Vampires are simply another step higher in this growth."

I threw up my hands and turned my eye back out to the world beyond the castle. There would be no reasoning with Verona, let alone Aleera. They truly were tied irrevocably to Dracula, like he had said. Nothing I could say would ever sway them.

After a time, I moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch when Aleera grabbed us both and dragged us to a corner plunged in shadows.

She hissed quietly, "I can smell him."

We each of us stilled, watching as the door creaked open silently. Jonathan Harker appeared in the room, blind to our hiding spot. He explored the room briefly, but soon sat himself on the couch we had just vacated. Before long, he closed his eyes and his breathing deepened.

Aleera moved out of the shadows.

Verona followed her, and I watched as the two approached him.

I was torn with indecision. If I came out with them, Harker could awaken and see me. My attempt at friendship with him would be ruined. But if I didn't stop the two from doing something stupid, like feeding on him, it could all be ruined anyway. If he died, there was nothing I would be able to do.

I waited and watched as Aleera bent over him, simply breathing in his scent. When I saw her pause over his neck, mouth open, I sprang.

"_How dare you touch him!_"

I froze as Dracula suddenly appeared, grasping Aleera around the neck and flinging her across the room. His eyes were furious, glinting with anger like I'd never seen before, his mouth opened in a hiss, fangs flashing.

"How dare either of you touch him?" he yelled. "Dare to approach him when I had expressly forbidden it?"

"You are wasting him, Master!" Aleera cried, pointing to Harker with something like frustration evident on her face.

"Are we to have nothing?" Verona, voice ever calm, inquired from behind her sister.

Nearly composed again, he pointed to a bag I hadn't seen him throw on the floor. It moved like something was in it. I paled at the memory of Aleera bringing me food months ago, clutching a bag similar to the one now in front of us.

"Take it," he ordered heatedly. "You will leave him alone," he warned, "or you will not touch him even when I have finished."

Verona took hold of the bag and opened it. I stared in horror at the sight of a small child that couldn't have been more than five years in age.

"Go," ordered Dracula. In a second, they disappeared. A stifled gasp told me that Harker was no longer asleep, and I chanced a glance in his direction, only to collide with the Count.

"And you," he observed, "let them defy my wishes."

"I don't know how you expect me to stop two vampires," I snapped. His hand had closed around my wrist, and I pulled against it angrily.

"Oh? You have not attempted to use your new strength?" he asked. I was silent. "Well, we shall simply have to fix that." He turned to the Englishman and released my wrist. "He has fainted. Carry him back to his rooms," he ordered.

"What?" I gasped. "I couldn't possibly."

"Do it," he hissed, suddenly angry again.

I stepped around his rigid figure and approached Harker. He was undoubtedly unconscious, but even now his face held a bit of the horror of what he'd seen. No doubt he was entirely unused to such sights. I could hardly imagine what he must have thought.

Cautiously, because it seemed impossible to me, I grabbed him under his knees and behind his shoulders, and lifted.

His body moved into the air easily; I was barely exerting any effort to hold a grown man.

"His rooms," the Count reminded tersely.

I carried Harker down the hall, laying him on his bed. Though I'm sure he would wonder in the morning, I didn't dare undress him or empty his pockets. I fled as soon as I could, and shut myself away in my room. I tried to block out the distant sound of the child's cries and Aleera's purr of pleasure, and eventually, found sleep.

* * *

"Miss Valerious?"

My eyes opened widely at the sound of my name, and turned to the door to find the solicitor staring back at me.

"Mister Harker, what are you doing here?" I asked, hastily standing.

"I- I apologize," he stumbled, "I wasn't aware that this was your room." I gently moved him into the hall, shutting the door to my wrecked room, though I noticed Harker was a bit wrecked himself. He had purplish bruises beneath his eyes like he hadn't slept, and his clothes were rumpled. He wasn't even wearing his suit jacket.

"How are you?" I asked kindly.

"Miss Valerious." He stopped, then began again, "I don't know what to think." He paced a few feet away, staring out of a window. I debated the wisdom of saying anything, but he'd been awake last night, for at least some portion of the events that happened, and maybe knowing would help ease his mind. At least, partially.

"Vampires," I told him.

He jerked back to face me in surprise.

"The Count, those women you saw last night," I continued. "They're vampires."

"Good God," he exclaimed weakly. "So it wasn't a dream."

"I'm afraid not." I took a step toward him and suggested, "Perhaps we should move to the library."

"Yes," he nodded "Yes, of course."

We descended to the second story and closed ourselves into the study. I felt for any sign of Dracula, but noted that he was far away in the castle, probably in one of the towers where I had never gotten to explore.

I turned my attention back to Harker as he paced the room.

"Stop," I ordered him. He looked at me in surprise. "We will need our strength," I explained. He nodded miserably, and sank into a chair.

"I went back to the room before I found you," he said suddenly. "The door was splintered from being shoved so forcefully against the jamb and couldn't be opened." He looked up at me with pleading eyes. "I've seen the Count turn into a monstrous beast and fly. And those women..."

"His brides," I supplied.

"And you," he asked suddenly. "Why are you here?"

"My family," I spoke quietly, "and the other people in this area have known about Dracula since he came into existence hundreds of years ago. One of my ancestors vowed to destroy him, and my family has been working at it ever since." He nodded, gesturing for me to continue. "My brother was killed earlier this year. My twin sister and I, along with a monster hunter from Rome, have been trying to kill him. They are still free, hopefully coming closer to finding this place and slaying him."

"Why," he struggled to ask, "why then are you still alive? If your family has been attempting to kill him, shouldn't he hate you?"

I looked at him seriously. "You are mistaken in your assumptions, Mister Harker. I am no longer alive. I only exist now, as they do."

"A vampire?" he gasped, nearly falling out of the chair to run from me. "But-"

"Against my will," I finished sternly. "Dracula must die. That thought has never left my mind." He stilled in his movements. I could tell he wanted to trust me.

"I tried to tell you before, what kind of monster he was. He interrupted us," I reminded him. "Right now, my goal is to keep us both around long enough to see the end of this matter." I sighed tiredly. "My sister will come eventually, and the Count _will_ die."

Silence. Then, "You believe we will survive this?"

It was no question, no placating lie, when I said, "I do."

He nodded and took his seat again.

"Then I trust you," he vowed.

I smiled slightly, glancing again at the open window. The sun had set by this point, and I could feel Dracula awakening. I sighed and turned to Harker.

"He's awake."

His eyes widened.

"What shall we do?"

"There is nothing we can do, yet," I revealed. "We can only wait and pray."

"Pray?" a mocking voice sounded next to me. I jumped, only to be caught around the waist. The Count turned me around to face him, and I glared.

"You should know by now, Sylvia, that praying is a waste of time. After all, look at what has happened to you." He chuckled at his own dark humor.

"Harker," he said smoothly, releasing me. I crossed the room in a flash to stand by the other man's side. At his name, the Englishman paled, but I grasped his hand, urging him on.

"Yes, Count?"

He smirked at our clasped hands, but continued, laying a sheaf of papers on the desk, "I would ask you to pen three letters to whomever you please, explaining that your work here is nearly complete. One should say that you are nearly ready to leave, another that you are about to depart my castle, and another saying you have arrived in Bistritz." He smirked in a pleased manner, and announced this next piece of news to us both. "Date the letters May twenty-third, May twenty-ninth, and June seventh." He paused, grinning nastily at us. "Do enjoy yourselves before then, won't you?"

He was gone a moment later.

"The dates?" Harker asked in a weakened voice.

"Our timeline," I concluded grimly. "We must kill him before then."

With, or without, my sister.


	14. XIV

**AN**: I want to thank all the people who have put this story on their alerts or favorites list, and I especially want to thank the people who reviewed, even if it was just a line - knowing you cared enough to type a few words (or many) truly lifts my heart. More importantly, it gets me thinking more about this story, and how I still have so many more plans for it. Without further delay, here is the latest chapter. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Harker wrote the letters as the Count specified. Considering Dracula would read them, there was no hope of sending an encoded message to any of his associates in London.

He wrote to his fiancée, a woman named Mina Harker, and to his superior at the legal office in Exeter, each dated just as he'd been instructed. Before long, we retreated to Harker's bedchamber, reluctant to stay in the library where the Count might easily intrude – not that either of us expected him to respect the privacy of a bedroom, either.

I declined the seat he offered me, instead choosing to stand at the window. He perched restlessly on the edge of the settee, and we talked for a while. I told him of my family and its history, and then of the events of this year. I told him about Van Helsing and Carl, and what had happened since they'd arrived. I didn't specify what exactly had been transpiring while I'd been Dracula's captive, but implied that I'd become one of the undead in a manner against my will. When he asked about my village, and if I had anyone waiting for me, I gave him a rueful smile.

"The only person I have is my sister, Mister Harker. I suppose Van Helsing and Carl count for something, but Ana is the only one who truly matters to me. Not all of us are as lucky as you." I directed my gaze to him. "Tell me about her."

"About Mina?" he asked, almost surprised. "Well," he began, "she's a brunette, like you, though her hair is more wavy than actually curled. She's shorter, fair skinned, and has brown eyes. She teaches at a school in London, as an assistant."

I nodded, gesturing for him to go on.

"Mina –" he paused. "Mina is... the most wonderful person I know. Despite losing her parents not more than a year ago, she's never been kinder or more good-tempered. She's generous to all those who are in need – I don't think I've met a nun so charitable as her in all my life. She manages to dedicate herself to so many practices, even learning to use a typewriter – a machine that writes letters much faster than by hand," he explained to my questioning gaze, " – simply so she can be closer to me. She's extraordinary."

As he spoke, Harker's eyes softened and a certain note I'd never really heard before came into his voice. Well, no, that wasn't completely true – I'd heard my father talk about my mother in much the same tone. It was obvious he was deeply in love with her.

For a moment, as I listened to Harker extol the virtues of his fiancée, sadness struck my core. I had to wonder if any person would ever love me in the way Harker loved Mina, the way my father loved my mother. There had never been any indication in my life up until this point that I would ever be blessed with such luck – no, if my past was any clue to my future, my life would only continue to be filled with demanding trials. But I still held hope. At any moment my life might turn around. Wasn't I at this very moment working toward that very goal? I had no doubt that once Dracula and his brides were dead, my future, and my family's future, would have a much brighter outlook – despite the previous setbacks.

"She sounds like a very virtuous woman," I told him. I flashed him a small smile. "She is very lucky to have you."

"I believe I am the lucky one, but thank you," he returned, bearing an equally genuine, though tired, smile.

I sighed and turned away from him, gazing outside at the courtyard, then the forests and mountains beyond. The moonlight washed over the land softly, glittering on the snowdrifts and turning the ground into a sort of sparkling sea.

Somewhere past the forest, my sister and Van Helsing were out there, steadily coming closer to this cursed castle, or so I hoped. Harker being here had reminded me of just how much every person, not only my family, had to lose if the Count were to be allowed free reign over the world. I did not want to see Harker die, leaving his Mina Murray to suffer immeasurable grief. They deserved a life of happiness. But even the determination that had, ever since the beginning of this ordeal, kept me afloat, seemed to be waning. Like a river dam that had suddenly sprung a leak, my will was slowly seeping away, falling away in an ineffective trickle. I _hoped_ that Ana, Van Helsing, and Carl were near to discovering this place – but I was no longer certain it was going to happen.

Suddenly, a scream tore through the silence of the night. My eyes immediately glued to the source, a woman, dashing across the cobblestones to come and bang on the great door in the courtyard below.

"Monster!" she cried hoarsely. "Give me my child! Give her back!" The fleshy _thump, thump_ of her fists on the door was as ineffectual as a butterfly's wings beating against its captor's hands, yet she continued to strike the door with all the might she possessed. Harker rose from his seat on the bed to come stand beside me as I watched the woman in her grief. He had to squint down into the courtyard to see her in the dim nighttime light.

"What is she saying?" he asked grimly. For a moment I had forgotten that he didn't speak Romanian.

"Her child," I said shortly. I thought back to the young girl that the Count had given the brides to appease them, knowing that it was already far too late for her daughter.

I turned away from the sad sight in favor of contemplating the woman's ability to find this place. There must be a village nearby, else how might she have known where to look? It would also explain the presence of the gypsy men several months ago, the ones who evidently worked as Dracula's servants in some respect or another. Obviously, the location of the castle wasn't exactly impossible to find, just hidden away somewhere far enough from Vaseria that my family hadn't been able to find it in all these years.

If only-

"Oh God," Harker whispered. I swiftly crossed the room back to the window, but I already knew what was happening. The noises of snarling and chomping teeth met my ears seconds before I saw them dive at the woman. She screamed, sobbing for her child and her loss, until a squelching noise and a wet _snap_, and then it was silent save for the noise of growls and ripping flesh. Both Harker and I turned from the window in disgust.

"And this is the man we are to defeat?" he asked hopelessly.

"The wolves are the least of our problems. Dracula has even worse creatures at his disposal," I admitted.

"Worse?"

"Half man, half wolf abominations," I answered shortly, looking down at my hands. Velkan's face briefly flashed before my eyes. "My family has killed countless numbers of them over the generations, a feat which can only be accomplished by silver bullets, fire, drowning, or decapitation. You needn't worry excessively about them. As far as I've become aware, the Count doesn't seem to keep any in this castle."

I glanced back at him, and my sharp gaze softened immediately. The man looked frightened and worn down.

"Why don't you sleep?" I suggested kindly. "I can keep watch outside your doors in the dining room until you wake for the day."

He looked somewhat surprised for a moment, but said, "I suppose I could use the rest, Miss Valerious. Thank you."

I paused at the door. "Mister Harker... correct me if I am wrong, but I believe we are well past any formalities considering the circumstances. Please call me Sylvia."

He managed a weak smile. "I suppose you are right."

"Goodnight, Jonathan. I shall see you again tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Sylvia."

I quietly shut the door behind me and walked through the sitting rooms until I reached the dining room, where I stopped in my tracks. The Count sat at the head of the table, watching me over steepled fingers.

"Why are you here?" I demanded, instantly angered by the very sight of him. "He wrote your letters – they're in the library. What more could you want?"

He chuckled, one minute sitting and the next standing mere feet in front of me. "You still ask such foolish questions, Sylvia," he admonished, not bothering to lower his voice. "I am _rather_ disappointed that you have not learned more about me in all our time together. We are, after all, husband and wife." He reached out to toy with a loose curl.

I batted his hand away, nearly hissing I was so angry. "Don't you dare try that," I threatened lowly, "do not! I know one of your greatest skills is the ability to turn friends against each other, but I will not let you do it here!"

"Oh?" he inquired. "And why should I allow Harker to remain ignorant of our _relations_?"

"There are no relations between us, Count," I insisted. "Only wrongs you've committed against myself and the rest of humanity." I walked forward with every intention of passing him to enter the library, but I should have known by now that he would stop me.

"In case you had not noticed, my dear," he purred, fingers wrapped solidly around my upper arm, "you can no longer be considered a _part_ of your precious humanity."

In a way I'd not been able to observe when I'd still been half human, I realized that when we suddenly appeared in another room, we had not actually disappeared from one place to the next, but moved with inhuman speed. When we stopped moving, I wrenched myself out of his grasp, surprising myself. I had been able to lift Jonathan Harker, surely, but to free myself from the Count's immeasurably strong grip? Perhaps my cause wasn't quite so doomed as it had once been, even if the reason I was now so strong was a terrible one.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," I informed him defiantly, turning my back on him, fully prepared to stalk straight back to Harker's apartments, "but you can't keep me here."

"On the contrary," he drawled from behind me, "I believe I can. Quite easily so, in fact."

I became aware of a rapid heartbeat near the Count, and the smell of acrid, fearful sweat. I turned slowly, dreading the worst.

There, trapped against the Count's chest, was a young girl, no more than five and ten years. Her clothes were that of a peasant's, but she was fairly pretty. Black, wavy hair framed her oval face, and deep brown eyes framed by long lashes sat above prominent cheekbones. Her nose was straight and handsome, and her lips were full and pink. A defined jaw line led down into a long, pale neck...

I brought my gaze up to the Count's, chilled by his utter disregard for this poor girl, and chilled more by my apparent fixation on her throbbing pulse. I swallowed thickly.

"Why do you insist on terrorizing your victims?" I demanded of him. "It isn't enough that you take people in the prime of their lives and kill them, but first you must make them fear you as well?"

His eyebrow rose at the same time the girl's heartbeat did.

"Well, if she was not frightened before," he commented glibly, "she certainly is after your little speech, Sylvia." He pressed a sharp nail to the girl's throat, opening the tiniest of cuts. She whimpered, and he shushed her. I could feel his eyes, cold and hard on me, but I couldn't be bothered. I watched as her blood, seemingly surprised for a moment at being bared to the air, paused before beading at the threshold of the wound. Unable to help myself, I took a deep breath through my nose, sampling the air – salty, hot, coppery. I could almost taste it.

I found myself standing inches in front of the pair without realizing I'd moved. I reached out a hand to the girl's throat, caught a bit of the blood on my fingertip, and brought it to my mouth. I licked the red from my finger, and closed my eyes. I was shivering with delight, and it disgusted me – but I couldn't say no.

Before being presented with this.. this _feast_, I hadn't realized how empty I'd been feeling since becoming a vampire. Until this moment, I hadn't noticed that something inside me had gone missing – some quality that made me whole, and without it I was left aching for something to replace it. But when I tasted that blood... I was whole again.

"Why?" I asked him, even as I put more pressure on the cut. More blood came to the surface of her skin, and I licked it off my fingers, shuddering.

"Why?" he repeated. "Ah, Sylvia, I think you know by this time that half the pleasure comes from watching you fall a little further from that precious, moral perch you once stood so proudly upon. Ah, ah," he chided as I bent closer to the girl's neck. He lifted my chin forcefully, observing my face. The girl was pressed close between us, crying softly. Her tears did nothing to dissipate my hunger – once awoken, I couldn't seem to ignore it.

I was starving, and I hadn't realized until now how easily it would have been to stop that hunger... worse, I was realizing that my self-control was almost nonexistent. All it took was a small open wound and the scent of blood in the air, and I was lost. I was perfectly aware of what I was doing, but I found myself uncaring. I wanted to get rid of the fierce ache in my belly, coat my tongue and throat with that most delicious of all elixirs. I wanted to feel the pleasure, feel something other than the hate and desperate hopefulness.

The corners of his lips twisted upward as he stuck a thumb in my mouth to feel the sharp fangs that had grown there. They weighed heavily in my mouth.

"You understand, do you not Sylvia?" he inquired, almost gently. "The only thing that truly matters is filling that emptiness inside of you."

"Yes," I whispered, desperate to return my attention to the human shivering between our bodies.

"Go on," he allowed, releasing my chin and the girl. She still had enough presence of mind to flee, but there was nowhere she could go. I grabbed her before she could go far and threw her down on the unfamiliar bed against the far wall. She was about the same height as me, so it would be easier to lay her down. I ignored her sobs and sniffed deeply at the skin of her neck. Such a heavenly smell.

I caressed her cheek lightly before I tightened my hold on her wrists and quickly bit down into her neck. Rather than a scream, she merely gasped, her sharp breath mingling with the deep moan coming from my throat. I sucked deeply at the hot blood that poured readily from her artery, swallowing it eagerly.

At some point I vaguely became aware of her wrists being taken from my grasp. I didn't care – I was too focused on feeling the heat fill me. It warmed me wholly, flowing into my limbs, fingers, and toes. My very skin felt afire with her life spilling into me, bringing back a certain quality I hadn't felt since I'd been human myself. But all too soon it was over. The blood was cooling before it touched my lips – she had died.

I tore myself away from her, surprised to see the Count sitting next to the girl, her arm sprawled out beside her, two small holes where he'd bitten her. Looking at him, I became all too aware of the familiar tingling deep in my stomach. When he pulled me to him, eyes like electric fire burning into mine, I didn't protest.

Our lips smashed together, violent and intensely pressing for the advantage. His hands were quick and agile, tangling in my hair one minute and ripping my dress the next, alternating between caressing my breasts and pinching my thighs. Equally unable to reign myself in, I tore the clothes from his body, only focused on filling the next void, so close to feeding, so life-affirming. I wanted to feel him inside me, needed to have something inside me that told me I was still alive, still could live and love. I bit at his lips, pressing myself to him, raking my nails down his back.

The added smell of powerful blood in the air drove me further, and I didn't wait till all shreds of our clothes had been cast off. I pulled his trousers down as he lifted what was left of my tattered skirt, and impaled myself on him, core practically pulsating with heat and want around him. We both groaned and grunted and thrust, unable to stop ourselves.

I understood. It didn't matter who, when, or where, just that it was happening... that we _felt_. I abandoned all sense of propriety, writhing on him, under him, next to him, as a wild animal, anything to build to that ultimate release. When he flipped me over roughly and began hitting that spot with such force I cried out, I finally reached the place I'd sought, coming once, twice, and a third time when he bit me and finally reached the end himself.

I roughly shoved him away from me before reconsidering, and pulled myself close again. I simply lay next to him, taking comfort in the presence of a body next to mine. I could pretend, for a little while, that he was someone else – that the man next to me was warm and kind, and that his chest held a heartbeat. For a while, I might imagine that he loved me and I loved him, and together we lived a normal life. For a while, I could forget about the things I'd done, and I could deny the lack of any remorse for doing them.

Just for a while, I could pretend.

* * *

When I eventually left the Count, he didn't stop me.

Realizing I had been on the previously unexplored fourth story of the castle, I made my way downstairs to my room. It was nearing dawn, and Jonathan would be awake soon.

The twinge of guilt at the thought of what I'd just done, the feeling that I had essentially betrayed Jonathan, was small and inconsequential. I was feeling strangely numb, as if nothing could or ever would be able to compare to the two things that were left to me, to us – as if the time spent not feeding and not fucking was only a waiting game for vampires, passing the time until the next moment we could indulge in our two vices.

Since I'd just destroyed my most modest dress, I had no choice but to pull another gown from my wardrobe. It was emerald green, but its stomacher and petticoats were black brocade decorated with intricate golden whirls; the neckline was beaded with small pearls. It was probably more low cut than anything non-aristocrats wore, but it wasn't so thin as to be transparent, like many of my other dresses were, and its sleeves came to my wrists. I slipped on a pair of slippers and took a brush to the bedroom I used to spend time in. Verona and Aleera had occupied it enough that I knew there would be a mirror I could use, and I found one just as I had predicted on the vanity.

I brushed my hair out, and without bothering to do anything with it, I laid out on the bed. My eyes were heavy with sleep, the presence of the sun dawning in the sky weighing them down, even though the window here was heavily shuttered. Before giving in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, I thought of Ana.

I awoke later to the feel of fingers gently combing through my hair. For a time, I thought it was part of my dream. I was back in Vaseria, and Ana and I were sitting by the fire with Velkan, listening to the rough timbre of his voice as he read from a book of poems. I lay on the couch next to her, my head in her lap, and watched the fire flicker as she pet and soothed me. Just a simple evening – one of the few, the rare.

In the middle of my dream however, the sun must have set, for I opened my eyes to see Verona lounging on the bed next to me. A hand was extended to run through my hair, just as Ana had been doing in my dream. My heart stung with the comparison, and I remembered that there was a life outside of this castle. If anything felt so good as what I'd done with the Count the night before, it was remembering that Ana was still alive and that there was still time to defeat Dracula – still time to undo the curse he'd put upon me, because with his death I could die, too.

_Are you truly insane?_ A voice inside me whispered traitorously. _Nothing will ever compare. Not even your sister or your cause._

"How have you been, Verona?" I asked her, ignoring the voice. I didn't bother moving.

"Unchanged," she replied without any inflection. Her hand stilled and she brought her arm back to her lap. "I have missed your company."

"Hm."

"The Englishman has been looking for you since before sunset," she said, violet eyes searching mine inquiringly.

"Oh?" I was lucky I no longer had a heartbeat to betray me; I had no doubt that if I'd still been human my heart would have sped up noticeably at the mention of Jonathan Harker.

"Of course, this door has since been locked, so he cannot find you. Perhaps it is for the better."

I finally sat up. "Why would you say that?"

"You smell of him," she said simply, and I knew she wasn't referring to Jonathan. And yet she seemed a little sad. "But you do not seem happy."

"No," I agreed. "But I think I understand now." I studied her as she sat there, so still and unmoving.

It had been difficult to read her when I knew so very little of just who and what the vampires were – knowledge that could only be gained through time spent being one – but now that I could perhaps grasp some knowledge of who she truly was, I wasn't happy with what I saw. She was simply a lonely woman, insecure and seeking only to fill the void that gaped behind her eyes and in her heart with something that breathed – or appeared to breathe.

The Count seemed to breathe – seemed to be all fire, energy, and action. He was fierce in life and in bed, and perhaps Verona thought that he had the answers. Surely if she stayed with him, she would be happy and the feeling of emptiness after she lost her humanity would disappear. After all, she had fallen in love with him when she'd been human, and she'd even followed him into this dark existence for that love.

But she had slowly discovered that the Count had only sought her out in order to fill the gaping holes he himself had to deal with. And when she wasn't enough, he found a second bride, and then a third, no doubt engaging in several illicit affairs on the side. And then there was me, as much as I was loathe to admit it, and the cycle continued. Along the way she'd slowly lost her dreams, hope crumbling and corroding into grim resignation.

"Do you?" she asked knowingly.

"Yes," I said slowly, "I understand. But I do not understand why you have done nothing to change your life for the better. There is a life to be lived outside of these walls, Verona."

"But what sort of life is left to someone like you or I, Sylvia?" she questioned. "We are naturally nocturnal, bound to avoiding mirrors and holy objects, and know nothing of the world outside Romania. A woman alone has never been acceptable in society, not even in this day and age, but especially in the past few centuries. I am not familiar with other cultures and languages. We do not age, and there are bound to be humans who will notice if we dare to stay in one place too long."

She shook her head, unnatural purple eyes shut tightly against this bleak picture. "And what of feeding? If we cannot live openly, how would we live sneaking through the shadows like vermin? Just what would I do outside these walls, away from the protection of the Master? What would any of us do?"

I didn't know what to say. She was clearly not censuring me. It sounded more like she wanted to know the answer. _Could_ a vampire live a human-like life and keep its true nature a secret? Was there any life to be had away from Dracula's sphere of influence, or were we truly shackled to his side forever?

"It is hard to say," I admitted. "The only way to know would be to try."

She smiled ironically, extending a hand to cup my cheek.

"You are young," she said, "and endearing. Your unfounded confidence and bravery is something to be commended, but it is something I have never possessed. Not many do – even among the humans." She sighed and lowered her hand. "Perhaps someday it will serve you well and you might leave this place – who knows."

"You would like that," I guessed. "To share your master with fewer women."

She shrugged and stood from the bed. "There will always be more – the master's needs are great. I cannot blame him."

I shook my head but said nothing. There would be no changing her. As she said, she was centuries old. Her thought process would have been locked in place long, long ago. If that meant obeying Dracula as if he was her ultimate lord and master, her needs always second and never nearly as important, then so be it.

"Why are you no longer so adamant that I attempt to make things right with Dracula?" I inquired, standing. I walked to the vanity and peered in the mirror as I tied my hair back with a ribbon. I would need to find Jonathan soon.

After a moment she answered, "The Englishman. You are so like him, and yet you are one of us." She paused again. "You are... different."

Her reflection as she came up behind me was very dim. She took the ribbon from my clumsy fingers and tied my hair back for me, fingers brushing my temple as she pushed back a few loose strands. I leaned into the light touch, drawn to even this small gesture of closeness.

"I came to bid you farewell for a short while," she murmured softly at my shoulder. "The Master has been made aware of a group of humans along the nearby road, traveling in this direction. Though it is not certain, the three seem to be two men and a woman." I stiffened, breath catching. "I am being sent to intercept them before they find the castle."

I spun around to face her, but she was gone. Eyes blazing, I fled from the room with inhuman speed, hoping to hear her elsewhere in the castle and catch her before she left. I stopped at the end of the hallway in front of a fairly wide window, watching Verona's already far-off figure fly through the darkening sky.

Of course she had taken to her hell bat form.

Reminded of the capability, I was tempted to try flying after her, but as I had no idea how to even attain that form, and no desire to fall to my death trying, I didn't. I couldn't abandon Harker either, especially not when the moment I'd been waiting for after all these months was finally so near. My fingers curled into a fist against the stone sill and I closed my eyes.

Ana, Van Helsing, and Carl had finally found me. The long months of hoping, praying, and suffering at the hands of the Count would soon be over. I would be redeemed, Velkan and the rest of my family would be absolved, and Ana could forget about this dark chapter in her life. Jonathan Harker would emerge a little more frightened of the unknown, but relatively unscathed from his ordeal. Wilhelmina Murray would get her fiancé back, and the world would cease to be terrorized by Dracula and his hordes. The church would finally be able to claim victory against the devil.

Turning on my heel, a genuine smile on my face, I went to seek out Jonathan. I knew the three would be able to outsmart Verona and reach the castle despite her efforts, and then they would be here. I had to tell him the good news.

I descended to the second level of the castle and found myself outside of Jonathan's bedroom in a few second's time. I knocked, but the door was not closed – it creaked open heavily to reveal an empty room. I was confused for just a moment until I remembered that Verona had said he'd been wandering the castle looking for me. Not to be deterred, I located the sound of rustling clothing elsewhere in the castle and made my way there, fairly throwing open the door in my excitement.

"Jonathan, our prayers have-"

My words caught in my throat.

"Why, look who it is," came a purr from within the room.

Jonathan's white face peered at me with an expression of shame from within the darkness. Aleera lay nearly on top of him, propping herself up over his torso. Her fiery red hair fell in coils on his naked chest like snakes. She smiled wickedly, flashing fang.

"Care to join us?"


	15. XV

**AN**: I apologize for the long delay. I wrote most of this chapter a few weeks ago, but there was a certain feeling I wanted for it that I simply lost. I hope the time lapse allowed me to recapture what I was going for, but I'll let you all be the judges of that.

This is the second longest chapter to date, and also one of the last. The next chapter might even be the finale (of this half!) of the story - I didn't even realize until I was finishing this chapter just how far _Diary_ had gone. I've enjoyed writing it so much that I almost don't want to see it end, but as we all know, every story must end somewhere.

I hope you enjoy this latest installment - please let me know what you think!

* * *

"What are you doing, Aleera?" I breathed dangerously. I was frozen in the doorway, staring at the disturbing tableau before me, as if any movement might propel the two on the bed into some sort of sick play I had no desire to watch.

Not that Jonathan was to blame.

"The Master has decided the human has outgrown his usefulness," she explained, with a tone as if she was describing something inconsequential like the weather. "He has gifted him to us. You, of course, are included, Sylvia, dear." She flashed me a fangy grin that was equal parts sensual and dangerous.

I stormed into the room with the intention of flinging her from Jonathan and fleeing with him, when she leaned up and gripped my arm with a significant squeeze. If I hadn't been a vampire, she likely would have broken the bone.

"I plan on giving him my blood," she whispered in my ear, in a tone I could only classify as naughty.

"The Master would not approve," I said, gritting my teeth on the word. I ripped my arm from her when she loosened her grip, rubbing at the now sore spot. I chanced a quick glance at Jonathan, who seemed to be in the grip of some sort of trance. Rather than fretting about the two otherworldly creatures on the brink of quarreling, he was merely gazing up at us with an expression of vague curiosity. My gaze lingered on his parted lips for a moment too long.

"He will soon be off to London," she dismissed, tearing my attention away from Jonathan and back to her. "We three shall need a playmate when he is gone."

"Aleera-"

But she had already decided I wasn't worth her time.

She dipped back down to Jonathan, and continued her slow ascent from his stomach to his neck, planting soft kisses wherever she pleased. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach as his head fell back and he let out a soft moan. He was giving into her seduction without a single attempt to stop it.

Aleera was stronger than him, of course, but where was his will to fight? He had a fiancée, and here he was, letting another woman do whatever she pleased to him with nary a protest. I knew fighting it wouldn't amount to much – after all, I'd faced a similar battle myself – but he could at least _try_ to escape this. Our salvation was so close, coming ever closer. When Verona had told me the news I'd thought it would only be a matter of waiting a few hours longer. I should have known things would never be so easy.

I made a split second decision. I couldn't think on it, or I would never go through with it. But if he wasn't going to help himself, the least I could do was make sure Aleera never got the chance to give Jonathan her blood. I wasn't stupid. I knew Aleera had many more years experience fighting than I did, and I was still too unused to my own newfound speed and strength to do much effective fighting. I was just as helpless now as I had been when it had been Dracula preying upon me when I'd been human. There was only one solution.

With determination, I began unlacing my gown.

Aleera, surprised by the sound, looked over her shoulder from where she'd been caressing Jonathan's neck. She smiled deviously.

"I knew you couldn't resist," she purred. "Come, share him with me, Sister."

I consciously made an effort to smooth out my facial features into something more natural to the situation, and began crawling onto the bed. I recalled a flash of memory in which I had done much the same with the Count, and stifled a sigh of my own. The memory of his hands everywhere, as much as I hated the man, was not one I could, would, or even wanted to part with. Even the remembered pleasure of his company was enough to arouse me.

I used this to my advantage, smiling softly with desire at Jonathan, who looked a mixture of pleased and confused. Aleera shifted slightly and allowed me to share in the slow worshipping of his body, and together we kissed, nipped, and caressed anywhere we wanted. I tried to reign myself in, but ever so slowly we left our mark on him. Light bruising and small cuts that oozed slow streams of blood appeared all over his body, but as I knew from experience, he wouldn't notice until later – he was far too lost in his pleasure. I lapped up his blood with relish, easing the small unnatural hunger inside of me. Aleera tugged at his pants, pulling them down slowly, ever so slowly, and I teased, blowing cool air and trailing cooler fingers onto the hot skin that was revealed.

Even though we had barely done anything to him in the way of real sexual acts, Jonathan was panting and sweaty. Together, Aleera and I awoke in him some sort of unnatural emotion and need – I had never realized just how much power I could wield over a man. It was almost intoxicating.

His eyes were shiny and the pupils wide under half-closed lids, and his entire body emanated the most seductive heat. I had an overwhelming desire to toss my clothes to the floor and press that heat against the entire length of my cold body. For a moment, I wondered if the Count had felt this way about me. Powerful, cold, and commanding, kneeling above a hot, prone, human, and feeling a sort of accomplishment at having brought them to such a state – knowing that he had woven such a powerful spell of want, need, and insatiable hunger in me that it knocked aside all else that I held dear. Perhaps even knowing it would cause me heartache later on when I gathered my wits – knowing that it would make me hate him – and still reveling in the moment.

I decided that this was indeed a possibility, as I knew Jonathan would never see me the same way after this instance... but I still found myself uncaring. I _wanted_ to touch him – had wanted to touch him since I beheld him in the library, so exotic, so different... so human. I rationalized it as a necessity, a generous gesture even, to save him from Aleera's scheming, but the truth of the matter was that I was doing this for me just as much as I was doing it for him.

I shook myself from my thoughts, and as Aleera busied herself elsewhere, I leant up to his face, searching for anything that intimated disgust or reluctance. I couldn't deny my own level of enjoyment being with him like this, as undesired as the current circumstances were, but I knew I wouldn't be able to carry on if I saw his revulsion. But there was nothing like it in his eyes – just need.

I kissed him languorously, tongue darting into his hot mouth to tangle with his, and I took in his groans as Aleera pleasured him below.

She surfaced for a moment, cutting off just before he found release, and made a move to bite into her wrist. I grabbed it and looked her in the eye.

"Let me."

Her eyes, wide with delight, met mine and she giggled, before pulling me forward and kissing me full on the lips.

"I knew you would come to be a true sister to me, Sylvia," she whispered, too low for Jonathan to hear. She ushered me to him, watching, as she fell back down to her previous engagement.

Jonathan's eyes found mine, and I saw a bit of alarm there.

"_Shh_," I hushed. I bit my wrist, suckling at the blood myself. As my mouth filled with it, not nearly as delectable as a human's, I contemplated actually giving Jonathan my blood. For a split second I bounced the idea around in my head. I could have him all to myself... a man whom I was sure I could love if only there was a chance. If I made him vampire, he would _have_ to stay with me – I could find a true lover and partner in Jonathan.

I almost did it – but then the image of his beautiful Mina popped up behind my closed eyes.

Shoving away my self-pity, I made sure to let Aleera see what I was doing before I blocked her view and swallowed the blood surreptitiously. I kissed him while pretending to transfer the blood, and Aleera gave a pleased hum from behind me, none the wiser. At the same time, Jonathan's eyes squeezed shut and he cried out with relief.

With the sound of his release, a sound only his fiancée should ever have gotten to hear, a wave of shame rolled over me as the reality of what I'd done sank in. I jerked back from him with inhuman speed and shut my eyes. Aleera's soft giggles came from somewhere in front of me. I felt nauseous and dirty.

It had been wrong to do this. Maybe my interference had been necessary – otherwise Jonathan would be tied, however tenuously, to Aleera – but that didn't mean I had to go about it the way I did, giving into my sinful desires – _almost_ giving into the evil ones. I knew he was promised to another, loved another, and still I threw myself at him - and that made me feel more like a whore than my entire relationship with Dracula ever did.

When I opened my eyes, Aleera was gone. Only Jonathan, who now lay on the bed, seemingly confused as to how he had gotten there, was in the room with me. As I watched him look about then gather the state he was in, registering what hurt and what didn't, a look of horror came over him. Eventually, he caught onto me standing in the dark doorway, clothes nearly falling off and far too revealing, and he simply stared.

"I'm sorry," I whispered my apology. "I never meant for this to happen."

I couldn't stand to see the accusation on his face, so I turned away, a hand on the wall to steady me. Tears pricked behind my eyelids.

"I came to tell you," I said forcing my voice to be calm, "I came to tell you my sister, Van Helsing, and Carl are on their way here. They've _found_ us. So there's no reason to despair." I had to choke back a wry bark of laughter. I had just helped deliver the most damage to him since he'd arrived at the castle. So much for saving him from the wickedness that tainted this place.

"I'm sorry," I said again, before departing. I raced away from his room, and, unable to seek refuge in the library like I normally would – I didn't want Jonathan to have to see me after what I'd just done to him – I found myself on the unexplored fourth floor.

The first room I came to was one I knew well. It was where I'd killed my first victim.

As I stood there staring at the room, the bed still rumpled and a faint odor of corpse still lingering, I realized that I'd had actually had sex with the dead girl's body still in the room. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I moved on to discover a few other rooms, all with a various array of beds or coffins. One, which was made of stone and clearly grander than the rest, belonged to the Count. I could smell his scent all over it – a sort of dry smell that managed somehow to convey his power. There were three others of the same design, but smaller, which clearly belonged to Aleera and Verona, and then the third that Marishka had likely inhabited before she'd died.

Looking at the thing, with its small, cramped interior, I was glad Dracula had never insisted I sleep in one. They looked uncomfortable and rather unpleasant. Not to mention they were all standing straight up against the wall – I couldn't imagine sleeping while standing on my feet.

As I was examining the Count's coffin and gently fingering the soft silk interior, the owner appeared.

"Wouldn't you enjoy an evening in there, Sylvia?" he purred darkly, sending shivers down my spine. "Just you and I... no interruptions."

I snorted weakly, but couldn't rip myself away from his touch on my neck. His presence was palpable behind me, and when I turned around, he grasped the back of my head and kissed me fiercely. I moaned and leant into the kiss, and all the want I'd suppressed while I'd been with Jonathan came flooding back. I gave in to the desire – after all, what was the point in resisting when all had already been said and done?

The Count had just pushed me into his coffin, lips almost wildly attacking my own as he began to strip away his own clothes. He nudged at my neck, and I offered it readily, only too eager to chase away the emptiness and invite the electrifying bliss he could offer me. As he moved to sink his fangs into my flesh, poised to receive toe-curling pleasure, the most agonizing pain shot through me.

I couldn't even think about holding back my scream. My knees gave out and I crumpled to the foot of the coffin. I was only vaguely aware of Dracula's enraged roar, and further away, Aleera's piercing cry. When the pain passed, I was dimly aware of coldness on my cheeks. I wiped at them with a weak, shaking hand, and it came away red. Bloody tears, I realized as I looked at them with wonder.

"Master!" Aleera called, flying into the room. "They've killed Verona!" she wailed, clutching to his chest.

My head still reeling, I could only watch from the ground as he pet her comfortingly.

"They are monsters," he swore bitingly. "If they were not so insistent upon destroying us, Verona would never have bothered them. And they call _us_ fiends!"

Aleera sobbed into his chest for a moment longer before he led her to me, and she helped me stand. My legs still felt weak, like I'd run up a thousand steps, and my eyes didn't seem to want to function properly – a black haze crept in at the edges of my vision.

"She has been hit harder by Verona's final death," Dracula commented to Aleera as he examined my face. "She is too young to handle the death of a sister."

"Master," Aleera said anxiously, "Verona also gave her blood once."

"What?" he asked her sharply.

"When she was injured," she replied fearfully, cowering slightly. "She would not have survived otherwise. Sylvia was none the wiser."

He cursed in some language I did not know before ripping open one of the veins in his wrist. He held it to my mouth, and I luckily still had enough sense of mind to open my lips to his offering. This pain inside me was not one I wanted to experience for long, even if it meant taking the Count's blood to assuage it.

I grasped his wrist with all my strength, swallowing rapidly until he ordered me to stop. My body didn't hurt anymore and my head was clearer now, but it was almost worse than the haze that had so briefly consumed me. Verona, the one I had come to finally understand, the one who helped show me that vampires weren't simply creatures to be hated, had been killed. The ones coming to rescue me must have been the ones to kill her. The knowledge was bittersweet.

The Count brushed a tear from my cheek and licked the blood from his finger. Aleera came closer and put her arms around my waist, snuggling her face into my neck, while Dracula encircled us both with his arms and kissed the tops of our heads. The gesture reminded me, oddly enough, of my father when he blessed Ana and I before any sort of expedition. Even stranger, it was comforting.

"My two beloveds," he murmured, voice slightly muffled by our hair. "The only two beings left in the world who care for me. The only two loves I have left."

Aleera cooed, and even I felt something move in me at his words. But I had to wonder, did he truly mean them? Even with all the cruelty, the baiting, the harm he'd done to me? The harm I had, admittedly, delivered him? I had given up trying to rationalize his feelings and motivations compared to the rest of humankind – he was not a part of that world. In terms of this realm of ours, this hidden and despised world of vampires, did his black heart truly feel something for his brides? Were they – _we_ – more than just playthings and distractions to him?

"Come," he said softly. Cold hands guided us to his large coffin, and pushed us, shivering, gently to the cushioned walls. The Count's jacket came to settle around my shoulders, shielding my half-undressed state from sight, and Aleera hugged me closer, cheek pressed to my own. I closed my eyes and inhaled her scent, dry like all vampires, but with her own slight spice-like smell – her presence was comforting in a way that I had never imagined it might be; in the way I had been with Ana and Velkan.

Dracula's arms were around us again, and he held us close to him, insisting but not hurting. Pressed between the silken walls of a coffin and two vampires with whom I shared a volatile relationship, I would have imagined feeling some discomfort. Oddly enough, there was none of that. Rather, as the time passed and we simply held each other, I started to feel better. The ache that had been left behind after feeding from Dracula was filling in. Verona's death began to hurt less and less, until the hurt was only in memory, and the physical pain had gone.

"We, not unlike humans, are social creatures, Sylvia," he intoned quietly. I tilted my head upwards from where it had been resting on his silent chest and questioned him with my eyes.

"Have you never felt peace after a tragedy while in the presence of your people?" he asked of me. "There is some truth to the matter, though for humans it is largely a mental process of unity that causes them to feel what they do. For us it is the physical presence of another vampire that heals. A touch of skin upon skin," he murmured, dragging a gentle finger across my cheek, "or even just the simple action of an embrace."

"Verona," I began, then faltered. Even saying her name hurt. She had been no Ana, but she had been close to me in a different way. She had been the only one in this wretched castle to genuinely try to make my life here easier; she had saved my life and nursed me back to health; she had actually been a friend. To know she had lingered through such a long, uninspiring existence and then perished without ever discovering true happiness was a tragedy in and of itself.

"She was your blood sister," he stated firmly. "And she had given you her blood. You were tied to her very strongly."

A flash of fear stuck me at his words. I had forgotten what would happen to me, now that I was a vampire, when he died. Verona had been my blood sister, and we had evidently shared blood – just the once, a long time ago – and yet her death felt like I'd been ripped in two. It lent truth to my family's guess that anything created by Dracula would die with his slaying – the blood tie between vampires was obviously strong, and held great sway over their ability to exist. It was highly likely that I would die when he did.

I buried my face into his chest again and breathed in his heady smell – my personal demon, my passionate lover. He would drag me to hell with him if he could, I knew. I had known since becoming tied to him that my death was a likely possibility, but having the evidence of it right in front of my face was a real blow.

Before I did finally say goodbye to this world, I had to make sure I could see Ana and speak with her. It was true I was already damned – tied so physically and emotionally to the sire of all vampires, the scourge of the human race. I knew he needed to be destroyed, even if it meant my own demise – and really, what life did I have now? Verona had been right. There was no life outside of the shadows for a vampire. I could pretend all I wanted, but humans would be bound to notice eventually. They would never see me eat or drink – I would avoid the sun at all costs, and be weak during the day. My skin would always be cool to the touch. And what would I do, alone? Where would I live? And how could I ever justify stealing the blood of innocents? Then there was the question of the cavernous hole inside my heart, where nothing but the strongest of emotions could touch me. What would be the point in prolonging such a tortuous existence? No, I was more than ready for Dracula to be sent back to the devil.

I had only one thing left I wished to do before his final death, one last request before I could leave the world in peace. Before Dracula's black heart crumbled to dust, taking mine with it, I wanted only to see Ana's smiling face one last time, and tell her how much I loved her.

* * *

I spent the rest of that night and the following day asleep. When I finally awoke at sundown Aleera and Dracula were gone, and one of my outfits had been left in the room on a dresser. I slipped out of the one I was wearing and changed into the other, uncaring that it was one of more risqué pieces. Looking at it, I realized it was very similar to the dress Verona wore; it was done in the same style, but the silk was entirely opaque, and the long flowing sleeves were much shorter. It was dyed a deep burgundy, which complimented my pale skin. I put it on, feeling somewhat closer to Verona's memory for doing so.

I wandered down to the second floor, ignoring Jonathan's suite, where I found Aleera resting in the lounge. She was draped over a couch in a way that looked vaguely uncomfortable, at least for a human, but clearly didn't bother the vampire. She was humming a tune under her breath and held a ragdoll, fingers pinching the doll's arms, which she jerked up and down in a pantomime of a dance. I wondered what little girl the doll had belonged to, and whether she was still alive.

"He left," she complained softly. "He called the clouds in to shield from the noonday sun, and left shortly after."

"What for?" I asked her idly. I watched her twirl the stuffed toy around before she threw it to the far side of the room, where it hit the wall and collapsed to the floor with a puff of dust.

"I do not know where the Master left for," she said plainly, "for it was not my place to ask." Of course not. "But I believe he must have gone to Frankenstein's Castle. That is where he keeps the werewolves, you know. Well," she smiled with cruel mirth, "when they are not terrorizing humans."

"Whatever does he need werewolves for?" I asked, just before I realized the answer. "My sister?" I demanded.

She scoffed and sat up with lightning speed. "Sylvia, haven't you yet realized that Ana can no longer be your sister? That role is mine, and was Verona's. You do not still think you can belong with the humans?"

I turned on my heel and left the room swiftly, anger burning in my veins. Aleera called out after me, "They are coming to rescue you because they still believe you to be human! When they realize what you have become, your past together will mean nothing to those ignorant fools; you will simply be another monster to destroy."

I wanted only to be away from her. The way her words echoed in my head only fueled my foul temper. Before I realized where my feet had taken me, another voice gripped me in a way that froze my body and thoughts alike.

"S-stay away from me," came the haggard voice. "Don't come any closer."

My eyes found Jonathan across the library, a candlestick in hand, which he brandished at me. His back was hunched, and I detected a fine trembling throughout his body. His shirt was ripped and falling half of him, and he looked entirely different from the man I was used to seeing, eyes wide and bright with some strong emotion. I wasn't worried about the candlestick – I knew he couldn't hurt me – but that he felt the need to defend himself against me...

"Harker," I tried softly, forgoing his more personal first name. "Harker, I never meant for any of this to happen. I swear."

"How am I to trust an oath from a demon?" he spat, holding the candlestick slightly higher. "You and the other one..." He shuddered.

"I solemnly swear to God," I told him, half waiting to be struck down for my invocation of the Lord's name, "that I only wanted to tell you that we were to be saved. But then Aleera was there and she was planning on giving you her blood. I couldn't let that happen to you."

Jonathan paused for a moment and stilled his twitching muscles, observing me. After a time, the hard line of his mouth seemed to soften.

"What would have happened had she given me her blood?" he finally asked.

"You would have become tied to her," I explained, relieved that he was giving me a chance. I didn't dare move from my side of the room toward him, but rested my hands on the back of the couch. "The blood of a vampire turns a human into a half-vampire; as far as I can tell, the first step to becoming one of the undead." As he digested my words, his makeshift weapon started to lower, and some of the hardness left his shining brown eyes. "May I please sit?" I asked, gesturing to the couch. "I would not blame you if you choose not to believe me, but I don't mean you any harm."

After a quick internal debate, he gestured agreement, and I slowly walked around the sofa to seat myself. He took a plush armchair across the room, setting the candlestick back to the table, and laid his head in his hands.

"I feel like I have betrayed myself," he groaned. "And Mina... my Mina, I do not deserve her."

"It was not your fault," I said awkwardly, unsure of how to comfort him. This was new territory for the both of us. "Vampires have a certain effect on humans... they are like drugs, but unlike alcohol or opium, vampires can choose to exert their will on your whether or not you wish it so."

"Are you saying that I was damned since the moment I stepped into this castle?" he cried in dismay.

"No," I said firmly, looking him in the eyes. "You have escaped drinking vampire blood. There is nothing to keep you here after Van Helsing arrives. Dracula will finally be slain, and you will return to your fiancée and live a long and fruitful life. There is not a single thing to tie you to this place."

Jonathan nodded, but not as if he believed me. His entire posture screamed defeat, and I was sure he was still dazed from the night before.

"And you?" he asked, though it seemed like he only inquired to turn the subject away from himself. "What will you do?"

I felt my lips flatten into a grim line. "I believe my fate has already been sealed. There's no need for me to worry about that right now."

"You said," Jonathan began, then paused, as if ordering his thoughts. "You said that ingesting the blood of a vampire was the first step to becoming a vampire yourself. What is the second step?"

My eyes darted to find his face in the dark room. He merely looked curious, if still very tired and harried. At least the look of fear had gone. I swallowed, but my mouth felt dry.

"The half-vampire needs to ingest the blood of a human to become a fully fledged vampire," I murmured softly, averting my eyes to the ornate carpet. "Upon tasting a mortal's life blood, the process completes itself." I prayed he wouldn't ask how I had become what I was, and luckily he seemed to be too embarrassed to do so. But as I should have expected, things didn't go as I'd hoped they would. I rose to my feet in a flash as Dracula appeared behind Harker.

"My dear guest," he chuckled, laying a hand on his shoulder. Jonathan jumped, but the Count's hand held him seated in the chair. He came forward to stand next to Jonathan's armchair, his face a complete mockery of sympathy.

"Don't," I warned him desperately, taking half a step forward, hands clenched so hard my nails were cutting into my palms.

"Do not _what_, Sylvia?" he taunted, grinning cruelly. "Mister Harker," he began in an oily voice, "did you know-"

My nails were suddenly dripping with his blood, and I stood transfixed staring at his shredded cheek, which healed even as I watched; I hardly remembered coming to stand before him. Then his silvery-blue eyes flashed, and we were a whirl of movement.

I screamed at him, kicking and punching even as he blocked most of my blows and made a fair mess of me in the process; he was simply too fast. One moment he was there, but my fist would sail to the place and he would be gone, behind me. The struggle lasted barely five seconds, and by the finish my back had been pinned to the Count's rock-like chest with an arm lashed tightly around my waist and a hand fisted in my hair, baring my neck and bringing red-tinted tears to my eyes.

I managed to throw my elbow into his stomach, but it did no good – he released his grip on my hair to cuff me, and stars filled my vision. I sagged against him, failing to stifle a low groan. I thought at least one of my ribs were broken, along with a few fingers in my right hand. When my sight cleared, Jonathan was crouching, wide-eyed and pale as the moon, in the opposite corner of the room.

"As I was saying," Dracula drawled in a smooth tone, "before my _dear bride_ interrupted me so rudely... Mister Harker, would you like to know how Sylvia became a vampire? I assure you, it is a most fascinating piece of information."

"Jonathan," I begged, wincing at the sharp pain in my chest when I'd inhaled, "don't listen to him, he's lying to you."

"His bride?" he choked out, eyes bulging in shock and horror.

"Why yes," Dracula exclaimed in false surprise, calmly wrapping a cold, steel-like hand around my mouth. "That is enough out of you," his whispered quietly in my ear. To Jonathan, he said, "Did she not mention it? Well, that is neither here nor there."

"My God," Jonathan croaked hoarsely, staring at us. I tried to tell him with my eyes that I was sorry, for that he'd learned and what he was about to learn, but he was blind to me – blind to everything but his horror.

"Oh, I very much doubt God is listening in, Harker," Dracula informed him blithely. "If He was, do you not think He would have stopped Sylvia from feeding upon you when you'd first arrived?" Jonathan froze, pupils wide and unwavering upon the Count's face. "Oh, yes," he agreed, positively gleeful. "She preyed upon you in the night while you slept, just like any common fiend of the night. You thought Sylvia was different?" The Count shook his head in mock disappointment. "She used you, Harker. After all," he finished slyly, "you were her _first_." I refused to look at him, but I could just imagine the malicious grin that was sure to be twisting his lips; the bright twinkling of sadism in his cold eyes.

Evidently assured that his agenda had been fulfilled, the Count vacated the room, no doubt still savoring the expression that marred Jonathan's face – a mixture of pure disgust and terror – and it was all directed at me. Now that I was free of his hold, I found myself wishing again for _Dracula's_ presence. Left to face this alone, though it was indeed his fault for bringing it to light, was a reminder that 'this' was a mess all of my own making, and no one else could be blamed for it.

"Jonathan," I tried, taking a tentative step forward.

"Get away from me," he whispered haggardly. His eyes met mine, and the hate I saw there stopped me dead in my tracks. "You are a liar and a monster," he said, sinking the knife in. "A bane to the human race," he continued, and then twisting the knife deep into my heart, "just as _he_ is." I stumbled back from him and his words. "Do not come near me again, Vampire."

I fled again, but I knew that the feeling his words gave me would never leave no matter how far I ran. A deep numbness, starting where my heart was, slowly flooded into the rest of my limbs. I felt weightless and heavy at the same time, detached from myself.

_Monster_. _You are a monster_, my mind uttered traitorously_, just as you knew when you first became this abomination. Did you think you could forget?_ it jeered._ That you could run from your fate? That anyone would accept you as you are? _

"Dracula," I whispered, thinking of his words to me just after I'd taken Jonathan's blood for the first time.

"_I am the only one left in this world who will accept you for what you are,"_ he told me.

I supposed, in his own way, he had. And what choice did I have? It was perfectly clear to me now. There was no escaping this. There would be no pretending that I was not a fiend who preyed on innocents – that I was, despite any intentions or values I held in my last life, a destructive force only capable of spreading fear, hate, and death to whatever I touched. I had thought, with Jonathan, that I could move past being a vampire - become a new sort humanitarian breed - but clearly it was impossible. Nothing I ever did could make up for the pain I had already caused, or the company I had taken up with – the sins I indulged in so fully.

I did not want Ana to see me like this – I knew she would blame herself, especially after Velkan – but I had to see this through to the end. Since I wasn't likely to survive Dracula's demise anyway, I wouldn't have to worry much longer about anything, let alone my... otherness.

Hopefully Ana, Van Helsing, and Carl were near. I did not want to spend much longer trapped in this cruel existence, hated and reviled by all who knew what I was.

I stopped walking. At the end of the hall stood the Count, his presence filling the air with biting energy; it pricked against my skin and make the hair on my arms stand up, which made me smile. Some things were still the same, vampire or not. Dracula beckoned to me with a crooked finger, lips lingering in a seductive smirk.

Well. Not _everyone_.


End file.
